


Close To Nothing

by an_alternate_world



Series: Seblaine Week 2015 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Canonical Character Death - Finn Hudson, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_alternate_world/pseuds/an_alternate_world
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this story approximately eighteen months ago. It's been edited and re-edited and edited again and seems suitable to post for Day 1 of Seblaine Week. It has already been written and divided into six chapters, which will be posted each Sunday for the next six weeks. As such, most of the events in Glee Season 6 are disregarded.
> 
> The title is drawn from Taylor Henderson's 'Close To Nothing'.

 

* * *

 **Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  1,823  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

 _"That sting of_  
_remembrance_  
_in the back of_  
_your heart –_

 _it will come and_  
_go until you learn_  
_to differentiate_  
_between closure_  
_and disguised denial."_

\- Noor Shirazie

* * *

It's been a little over nine years. His senior year is well and truly finished. He graduated with a degree in law and business and now he's attending grad school for business – he'd never really been sure about law. His life has found a rhythm he's not sure he's comfortable with, but it's one that keeps him moving through the days with unerring regularity.

Yet the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape.

People cross the road in front of him, rushing to appointments or lunch. They search for cabs or other people they're meeting. He just stands still. A few people bump into him with polite apologies, others swear or grunt, but it's like his feet have been bolted to the sidewalk.

He's not the only one standing still, though.

Eventually the spell breaks, he moves – they both do – meeting in the middle of the road despite blaring horns and shouted exclamations and Sebastian cups his hand around Blaine's elbow and steers him to the sidewalk Blaine had just left. They end up walking down the street to a place that's slightly less crammed with jostling people, where Blaine gets trapped between a wall and Sebastian's body because he's about to demand the closure he hasn't had for nine years.

He'd imagined a thousand different scenarios of what he'd do if he saw the smaller boy again. More than half had included a dismissive tilt of his head and turning away.

He supposes this is why he shouldn't imagine things in his head so often. The person in front of him isn't a  _boy_  anymore but a  _man_.

"Hello, Sebastian," Blaine says, his voice soft and the lines around his eyes reflecting his guarded stance. Sebastian realises he's holding Blaine's elbow and forces his fingers to let go, lowering his hand to his side.

"Blaine," he acknowledges, but his lips don't lift into a smile. He's fairly sure his intestines have wriggled into a figure eight around his stomach and heart, squeezing the two organs closer together, crushing his appetite and his emotions into a ball of agony in his torso.

"Why did you stop answering my messages?" blurs with "Why did you ask me to help you propose?" and both of them end up pausing, the silence stretching into something awkward that makes Sebastian's skin crawl. The two questions are linked in his mind, and it terrifies him that Blaine could link them too.

"I know how much Hummel means to you. I knew how jealous he was when I would text or call you." Sebastian can only hope his own jealousy isn't as audible as the taste of it is on his tongue, that his chest isn't being carved open and exposed to a certain level of vulnerability that Blaine will stab at repeatedly. It's easy to imagine himself sitting on the sidewalk while his heart and soul bleed along the sidewalk. "Once you were engaged, I thought it best to back off."

His gaze focuses on the bricks behind Blaine's head, at a particular brick that had been chipped to expose more of the greyed concrete which holds the structure together. Blaine's eyes had always been his undoing. He needs to avoid them if he has any chance of maintaining his composure.

"Sebastian…" A hesitant hand touches his arm and it sends warmth and electricity and cold through him all at once. Even after all this time, Blaine stirs something in him that he's never been able to properly comprehend and understand.

He can't take the feelings that the point of contact stirs in him and deftly moves his own hand to remove it. He doesn't even realise he's holding the back of Blaine's left hand until it registers that Sebastian has moved his own left hand to remove it.

He realises Blaine's ring finger is empty probably around the same time that Blaine spots the ring on Sebastian's hand.

"You- Y-You're married?"

Sebastian hates how utterly astonished Blaine sounds, like Sebastian Smythe wasn't capable of a committed relationship. Perhaps if Blaine had realised he could have relationships, there could have been-

No. It doesn't matter.

Not anymore.

Despite the tone of his voice, Sebastian can't really understand the expression on Blaine's face. There's something in the shine of his eyes, the set of his lips, the muscle near his jaw that pops every time Blaine grinds his teeth together, which contradict one another.

It finally registers that he's still holding Blaine's hand, and he drops it. The lack of ring and tan line on Blaine's hand is obvious. He tries to keep his expression neutral. He also doesn't answer the question. There's no need. The question could have been rhetorical because the ring is there. It's a wedding band, not an engagement ring. Blaine was smart enough to know the difference.

Besides, Blaine had proposed once. He'd pushed a ring on Hummel's finger while people threw rose petals over them and Sebastian tried not to throw up his breakfast. If  _anyone_  knew what a ring on a left finger symbolised, it's the brunette male in front of him.

"Congratulations," Blaine says, and there's something that tugs at his chest, something a little sad in Blaine's eyes, that makes him want to explain.

But he doesn't. He's explained enough, which isn't much at all, and Blaine still hasn't answered his question. He's starting to think Blaine never will. The closure he's always needed will remain out of reach, and the festering wound beneath his skin will be ripped open for the world to see again.

"Look, I'm on a lunch break. It was nice seeing you again." It's a lie, and he's pretty sure Blaine can tell, but the boy – no,  _man_  – doesn't say anything to contradict him. "Take care of yourself."

He turns, freeing Blaine from where his back has been pressed against the wall. He takes three long strides back to the bustling street before he feels a hand on his elbow, pulling him back.

"Sebastian."

Blaine's voice is firm and he glances over his shoulder, finding Blaine's eyes are looking away from his face. It's another mess of mixed signals, where Blaine has a controlled voice and an anxious set of eyes. It scares Sebastian that he can't read the man in front of him anymore. It used to be so easy with the innocent bright eyes, the flushed swollen cheeks, the embarrassed half-smile which always sent his heart racing. He doesn't know how to react to this Blaine, who is careful and cautious and composed to the point of being a stranger.

He supposes his own lack of bright eyes and easy smirk has left Blaine feeling out of sorts as well, but he doesn't want to think about that too much.

"Take care of yourself," Sebastian repeats, as if he hadn't been heard the first time. It was a dismissal, an attempt at being kind to Blaine's feelings without being in any way personal. He tries to wrench his arm away but tan fingers close sharper, harder, firmer into his arm.

"Call me." Blaine forces a card into the pocket of his pants, and Sebastian finds himself wondering what the male does that means he has a  _business card_.

Before he can really think about it, the hand on his elbow is gone and Blaine has walked past him to rush across the road, weaving between traffic like a New York expert, and turned a corner to vanish among the throng of pushing and pulling people cramming the sidewalk on their lunch break.

Sebastian stands where he is, dumbfounded and distracted, until his phone rings. He winces as he hastens to explain that yes, he's coming back to the office now, he just lost track of time, is terribly sorry, it won't happen again...

The fact that he never actually obtained anything to eat doesn't register until he's falling into his chair and attempting to resume the tedious, mind-numbing work of entering data for various businesses into an Excel spreadsheet. He'll never be able to concentrate on it, not when his mind is consumed with thoughts of honey-hazel eyes and full red lips and an intensity in Blaine's expression that makes Sebastian want to promise the world to someone that only used him to get back together with Hummel.

The business card practically burns a hole in the pocket of his pants, imprinting Blaine's name to his thigh and stitching the numbers along the freckles of his flesh.

He ignores it until he gets home.

* * *

Actually, Sebastian ignores it until he strips out of his work attire into something more suitable for lounging around the house. The shirt, tie and slacks fall into a basket and the cotton shorts and old Dalton t-shirt, well-worn and thoroughly faded, are far more comfortable.

It's only then that he rummages around for the card, conceals it in his palm, and moves towards the couch to sink into the plush fabric and examine it.

 

> _Blaine D. Anderson  
>  _ _School Counsellor_

Below the job are work and a cell numbers. A faint hint of a smile curls the edge of his lips – Blaine had always had a fascination with people, with children, with wanting to  _help_  – before it vanishes. He's not sure why, but it feels wrong to smile. Maybe it's the silver band that wraps around his finger and contrasts with the off-white business card he holds in his left hand.

It feels like betrayal.

His dinner tastes like cardboard, his hot water is never hot enough to ease the chill in his bones, and his sleep is restless as he struggles to silence his thoughts.

* * *

It's been a week and Sebastian has stared at the business card for so many hours that the name which had imprinted itself on his thigh has been joined by the numbers imprinted on his eyes. He no longer needs to look at it to know what to press if he wanted to call Blaine.

He still hasn't, though.

He's not sure why. Maybe because his boss dumped him with additional client files, or because he has a paper due in a couple of weeks that is getting louder in demanding his attention, or because it still feels like a betrayal, or because he's not convinced he'll get the closure he needs.

Maybe because, deep down in a place he'd never admit to existing, he's afraid of falling for Blaine all over again.

The boring food, lukewarm showers, and fitful sleep are taking their toll.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	2. Chapter 2

 

* * *

**Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  7,595  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

Sebastian gets his assignment in a day early and celebrates the achievement of doing something on time by having a drink or two.

Or three.

Or four.

His apartment is cold, quiet, and lonely, even though his face feels warm and his brain is buzzing from the alcohol.

When he realises the six-pack of beer he'd bought has been consumed and his vision is blurred – he hasn't eaten much in the two-day frenzy of writing that paper and it's weakened his tolerance – he does something reckless.

He picks up his phone, punches in the numbers several times – his memory of the numbers is as good as ever but his fingers are a bit unsteady – and presses the green button.

The sober side of his brain says it's a mistake, but it's blunted by the intoxication because his body isn't used to consuming alcohol anymore. Despite how hard it tries, the sober side eventually gets drowned under a surging wave of amber liquid.

"Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking."

He falls sideways on the couch with the phone pressed to his ear, a bottle connecting with his knee before clunking to the floor with a loud rattle. It makes Sebastian's head hurt.

"Hello? Who is this?"

He considers not answering, of hanging up and shredding the card, but it wouldn't matter if he did. The numbers are inscribed all over his skin, invisible but ever-present. No amount of scrubbing in the shower gets rid of them. The more he looks in the mirror, the more they mock him.

"It's Sebastian." The 's' sounds are drawn out, far more sibilant than usual, slurred under the weight of the alcohol in his veins.

"Seba- Are you okay?" There's concern, and something about that question which he'd heard before, years ago, pokes at the oozing wound he's foolishly opened again by calling.

"Celebrating." It sounds hollow, though. Every drop of alcohol consumed has inflamed the loneliness that aches around his heart. Who celebrates an assignment being turned in on time when they were in  _grad_  school?

"Where are you?"

Sebastian lets his eyes wander around the pale yellow walls that are shadowed by lamps he barely remembers turning on. "My apartment."

There's a long pause, like Blaine is trying to figure out what to do or say. He wonders if that happens a lot for a school counsellor, that loss for words when asking someone questions. Sebastian's glad for being drunk. It means he doesn't have to think as hard in answering the questions and offers him an easy excuse for why he asks none of his own.

"Is anyone with you?"

It's quiet, maybe cautious, maybe uncomfortable, but Sebastian's apartment is so silent he hears it. "No."

"Do you want some company?"

The thought of seeing him again, of seeing Blaine in  _his_  apartment after all these years of trying to push the ghosts out of the corner of his eyes so he can properly  _live_ , makes him want to scream. No, he doesn't want company,  _no_ , and yet…

He ends the call and pulls up a new text message. It takes several minutes with his shaking fingers and blurred vision – and ignoring a call from Blaine's number which makes him drop his phone – but he eventually gets the address right and hits 'Send'.

This recklessness reminds him of why he stopped drinking in the first place.

* * *

There's a soft knock at his apartment door an hour later and it stirs Sebastian awake from the drunken doze he'd drifted into. Bottles clink and spin around his feet as he shuffles to the door and cracks it open.

It's like the vision of his dreams stands before him, a dream of someone too ethereal to be real, bathed in the dodgy light of a poorly-maintained corridor bulb.

His foggy brain takes a moment to remind him that the phone call hadn't been a dream after all, that this isn't just another hallucination. He really had been stupid enough to call after three weeks of pretending they'd never met in the street.

"Can I come in?"

Sebastian looks Blaine over, at the mismatch of clothes that look hastily thrown on. A brown jacket above black pants. A blue button-down with a red tie. Shoes that were just…all wrong for the outfit. Sebastian finds himself wondering if ' _school counsellor_ ' was code for ' _clown_ ', if the only way to cheer people up was by dressing in clothes that were absurd, and his lips twitch a bit in drunken amusement at the emergence of the snark he's hidden away for almost seven years.

He steps away from the door and back towards the couch, leaving the door open for Blaine to take the hint and enter or turn away and leave. He slumps onto the cushions and hears the door click closed and those ridiculous shoes get toed off.

The hint to enter was taken, then.

"Your place is nice."

Sebastian knows it's a lie but doesn't contradict Blaine. It's blank and bare and cold and sterile, just like Sebastian's heart.

The bottles rattle and he watches through half-lidded eyes as Blaine picks them up. He evidently finds his way to Sebastian's kitchen because he hears the dull  _thunk_  of the bottles falling into the recycling bin.

Sebastian's not sure how he feels about someone cleaning up his apartment.

The quiet footsteps give away Blaine's return and he opens a bleary eye when something settles around him. A blanket that was usually folded at the end of his bed has been draped over his body, Blaine's fingers gently tugging it towards his shoulders.

"Blaine, I-"

"Hush." It's gentle, gentler than he deserves, as Blaine sits on his coffee table a foot away from where Sebastian is laying on the couch and combs his fingers lightly through Sebastian's hair. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sebastian can't decide how that makes him feel – the words or the actions – but it's like his brain accepts the promise and decides to turn off again. His eye closes and sleep surrounds him, the blanket a comforting cocoon to hide beneath while Blaine's fingers soothe him to slumber.

* * *

The lights have been switched off when he wakes, but the blinds are open and sunlight has stretched across the floor like a thirsty man in a desert just so it can tap-dance against his eyes and make his head pound. He groans in pain, rolls over a little in an attempt to shield his face, and realises just how much he needs to pee.

He finds that sitting up takes too much effort when his stomach threatens to rebel a few times. Stumbling to the bathroom borders on being classed as an 'ordeal' yet the relief he finds once he makes it to the toilet is immense. He splashes some water on his face and takes two Advil for his head, downing two glasses of water when his tongue feels too large for his mouth, his throat feeling dry and sandpapery.

Only then does he dare to look at himself in the mirror.

His eyes are bloodshot and swollen – no wonder they itch like hell – his face is pale, and his hair looks like it would make a fantastic nest for a family of robins. He looks drawn and worn and he wonders when he ever got so old when he's barely 27.

He decides that since his favourite blanket is on the couch, he can either retrieve it before going to bed or just collapse onto the couch again. Four steps later he decides there's no way he's going to go to bed if he can just lie down on the couch. After nine steps he freezes at the sight in front of him, disjointed memories flickering to life in his head like an old movie.

Blaine is curled up on the armchair. The man might be small but so is the armchair, and Sebastian knows that position isn't going to be comfortable for Blaine's back or neck. He's still asleep – Sebastian figures he must be a deeper sleeper than Sebastian has ever been – and there's a youthfulness to his face Sebastian recognises from those school days when he was completely mesmerised and infatuated by everything to do with Blaine Devon Anderson.

Blaine grunts softly in his sleep, wriggling his body on the armchair, and then he moans pitifully when his neck turns. Sebastian feels a stab of sympathy for him even when it stirs something else inside of him, something locked away for many,  _many_  years.

He'd once fantasised about what Blaine would sound like when he moaned.

"Blaine." He touches a hand to the man's shoulder and shakes gently. "Wake up."

Ridiculously long eyelashes flutter open – Sebastian remembers watching those a lot in high school too – and Sebastian's breath catches in his chest at the bleary honey-coloured eyes that gaze up at him. His brow crinkles for a moment, as if he can't quite remember why he's staring up at  _Sebastian's_  face, when it appears the memories filter back and his brow evens out.

"Are you still tired?"

Blaine answers with a yawn that he covers with his hand. He shakes his head and eases himself into a sitting position. Sebastian's hand falls off his shoulder. He really needs to be more conscious of his touches lingering on this man lest he never let go.

Sebastian sits on the couch, pulling the blanket around his shoulders like a cape that could shield him from Blaine's probing stare.

"Sebastian, where's your-"

The word  _husband_  evidently sticks in Blaine's throat, because Sebastian can see the way his Adam's apple bobs from the edge of his vision, but the word hangs like a dark cloud in the living room. He's glad it doesn't get uttered though. He thinks it's probably toxic to inhale.

"He's not here right now." It's obtuse, not really an answer. It's pretty damn obvious his husband isn't here. Blaine wouldn't be sitting where he is if Sebastian's husband could be here instead.

"Is he on a business trip?" Blaine's voice takes on a sweetly curious tone, similar to when they would sit and drink coffee together at the Lima Bean or spend hours talking on the phone until one of them – usually Blaine – fell asleep. It's that same sort of genuine interest that used to tangle around Sebastian's heart and squeeze words from his mouth, make him admit to things he would never have admitted to anyone else.

This time, nagging at the back of his mind, he knows Blaine has a psychology degree beneath his belt and the questions come with an ability to push deeper beneath his walls than he is willing to allow. He won't be analysed and labelled by someone that was a high school crush.

"What happened to  _your_  husband?" Sebastian counters, ignoring Blaine's question because it's none of his business. There was a definite bite to his tone now, and he doubted a  _school counsellor_ would miss that.

"We never married."

The surprise must show on Sebastian's face because Blaine lowers his eyes and shrugs, looking awkward that Sebastian is actually  _looking_  at him.

"Like Finn and Rachel, I was young and stupid and the way I felt about Kurt was… It always felt so easy and effortless to smile around him."

Sebastian watches Blaine run a hand through untamed curls after a night spent rubbing his head against the armchair in his sleep. He thinks it might have had less gel in it last night but he can't quite remember. In high school, it looked so hard and sticky it held no interest to touch. What would it feel like to run his fingers through it now?

"But he… He was never quite the same after Finn died," Blaine continues, completely oblivious to the distracted thoughts which had invaded Sebastian's mind. "None of us were, of course, but Kurt… Finn was his high school crush before becoming his stepbrother. He never got over those first feelings and rooming with Rachel – she's  _still_  grieving, even now – meant all that grief kept getting transferred back and forth between them." A sigh rattles from Blaine's mouth as his fingers twist together, a sign of the old, shy Blaine from high school that Sebastian remembers so well. "His death brought up a lot of buried insecurities for Kurt from when I'd cheated and we started fighting more and more,  _so much_ , and it just…"

Blaine shakes his head, but Sebastian can fill in the pieces. The fights Blaine and Hummel had in school were epic and shattering. He'd listened to Blaine's sniffles and sobs over the phone too many times, fumbling through trying to offer comfort to someone that kept putting his heart on the line. He'd never had any idea what the right or wrong thing to say was. It was probably why he'd been so blindsided by the proposal, because he'd watched Blaine cry over Kurt more than he gushed with happiness, and he'd allowed himself to believe that they'd never get back together and then he was watching Blaine  _propose_.

"I tried so hard, but by the time I'd reached my second year of college, I couldn't take it anymore. Kurt had planned and re-planned the wedding over and over, setting dates only to cancel them. He'd pick fights or I'd have a long day and little temper." Sebastian could also remember what Blaine's temper could be like, the fire that burned in his narrowed eyes when he'd glared at a Warbler begging for forgiveness in the wake of David Karofsky's suicide attempt. "Then I realised I just wasn't happy anymore. I realised the relationship wasn't easy or effortless, but filled with pain. After that, I could see it in Kurt's eyes too, just how deeply he was hurting. It was clear we'd lost ourselves and each other long before I finally broke up with him."

To be brutally honest, Sebastian's not surprised to hear it ended. He'd tolerated Hummel for Blaine's sake, but there'd been an edge to Hummel that Sebastian hadn't been able to stand. There were times he'd liked his fiery partners, boys who bit back at Sebastian's snark so he knew that getting them into bed was going to be a challenge worthy of the reward. They were the bossy ones, the vocal ones, the ones that offered the most praise after he'd brought them to a mind-blowing orgasm. Hummel, on the other hand, had  _always_  been someone he'd loathed.

Maybe it was because Hummel had something Sebastian never realised he'd wanted. He'd always been about the thrill of the chase with nameless and faceless boys and men from Ohio to Virginia to France.

And then honeyed eyes had caught his attention across the senior common room as the Warblers danced their way through  _Uptown Girl_  and his whole world had tipped upside down.

It was easy to hate Hummel when he saw how precious Blaine was and how uncertain he'd seemed in the relationship.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's not particularly sorry but it seems like the right thing to say. He'd never been sure about what to say to comfort Blaine in the past, so at least some things haven't changed.

Blaine's smile is tired and uneven, and Sebastian wonders if that's the sort of smile Blaine had when he'd made vain attempts to comfort his cries over the phone all those years ago.

"Do you want something to eat? Or a glass of water? Your head is probably killing you."

Sebastian shakes his head and lies down on the couch, his original intention after returning to the living room. Now that Blaine's brought his attention back to how he feels, his stomach turns rather sickeningly and his head throbs with hurt. "I had some water earlier. Food sounds awful."

Blaine snorts and moves from the armchair to the coffee table. He has a feeling he knows what Blaine's doing – attempting to keep eyes on his expression. He was always free with his emotions but he's learned to filter them away until it's unreadable. Blaine seems hell-bent on scrutinising him all the time.

"What were you celebrating last night?"

Sebastian figures that of all the questions Blaine could have asked, it seems like the safest one to answer because it's mundane enough not to be threatening. "I had an assignment due today which I handed in yesterday. It's been a while since I had something in on time."

"Oh?" Blaine's eyebrows raise a little, the point of his triangles angling towards his hairline. "What are you studying?"

"I've just started my second year of grad school. Business."

Blaine nods and Sebastian can see the wheels turning while Blaine does the math. It's in the frown that falls over his brow. Finally, it seems like he gives up and just asks the question that has been obvious on his face for several minutes – "I don't understand. Your  _second_  year? Shouldn't you be-"

"I had a break." His interruption is short and sharp, and Blaine falls silent. Maybe he's waiting for Sebastian to add details, but there won't be any more forthcoming insights into his life. It's not something he talks about.

"Okay then," Blaine says slowly, visibly forcing himself to let go of the stream of questions he'd wanted to ask. Perhaps another counsellor trick. Blaine had always had an insatiable curiosity in high school. "So business, huh? I always thought your dad would push you into law."

"He tried." Sebastian's left shoulder raises in a shrug, thinking about the many,  _many_  arguments he'd had with his father over the years because of the decision. "I had more of an interest in business."

Blaine nods again, and it irks Sebastian more than it should. The conversations used to flow so easily between them. Now Sebastian feels like every word he says is placed under a microscope for careful examination before Blaine speaks again. There's nothing natural about it, about them, anymore. He wonders if Hummel broke up with Blaine because too much time was spent in counsellor mode when they had arguments, analysing words and movements before responding. If so, he's not sure he can blame Hummel for the break up. Blaine's already infuriating him.

"Sebastian, I-" Blaine pauses and presses his lips together, his eyes flickering away to a spot above Sebastian's couch.

Sebastian tugs the blanket around him and drapes one arm over his waist, his hands knotting together near his chest. He feels small and vulnerable but he won't let Blaine know that. It's easy to pass off his childish posture as something related to the hangover rather than his discomfort that Blaine is going to launch into an epic speech that scratches new grooves into his dead heart.

So he waits.

"Sebastian, I wasn't necessarily asking  _you_  personally to help with my proposal to Kurt," Blaine says slowly, his teeth skimming along his plump lower lip.

It sounds like something Blaine has wanted to say for a while. Maybe it's something that has been on Blaine's mind for the past three weeks since they ran into each other. Maybe this will finally give him the closure he's desired for so long.

"I was asking the _Warblers_  more than anything else, the boys who had elbowed me repeatedly after I rushed back to them to say I'd finally kissed him and they'd all exclaimed that it was 'about damn time'." Some sort of a fond smile crosses Blaine's face before it drifts away. "I was asking the Warblers because they were as much Kurt's friends as they were mine. I was asking the Warblers because I met Kurt at that staircase rushing to a Warbler rehearsal where I sang to him and he eyed me from the doorway. It was remarkably similar to how I eyed you and Nick and the Warbler boys singing  _Uptown Girl_  in my junior year, I guess."

Blaine's eyes focus on Sebastian, dropping towards his hand for a moment where he knows his ring is exposed, before snapping back to his face. He wonders what Blaine feels and thinks when he sees the wedding ring and knows that he, Sebastian Smythe, managed to get married when it had always been Blaine seeking the fairytale and Sebastian dismissing anything more than a quick hook-up.

He doesn't have the stomach to ask that, though.

"I know it must have hurt you to be there." Blaine's voice softens and it draws Sebastian's attention to his face, because he's never figured Blaine understood a single thing about how much it ripped him apart to be a witness to their disgusting intended union after all the things he knew Blaine had endured at Hummel's waspish words and actions. "I was too wrapped up in my feelings for Kurt, my determination to turn my relationship with him around, to realise how flawed we were. We'd never taken the time to resolve the past properly because we thought that since we were each other's firsts and we were both hopeless romantics that it could, and would, always find a way to last."

Blaine's hand reaches for Sebastian's, his palm settling against the ring lightly. It's warm, but not too hot, and it takes everything in Sebastian not to turn over his hand and lace their fingers together for reasons he doesn't understand. It would be much too intimate and his head is swirling with Blaine's words. It's everything he'd needed to hear for almost a decade with a few surprises thrown in for added measure. It's a difficult thing to process after so many imaginary conversations in his head over the years.

"I know now that I took advantage of you when I asked you to be there, and it wasn't until much later, after Kurt and I had broken up, that I realised one of the happiest days of my life must have destroyed you." Blaine's hand squeezes and Sebastian thinks the small raised diamond in his ring must be digging into the man's palm. Sebastian wonders if seeing the ring destroys Blaine and that's why he deliberately covered it. "I'm  _sorry_ , Sebastian."

Sebastian always knew that Blaine was capable of long-winded speeches that offered the listener little option but to accept the sincerity infused in every word. He'd heard more than enough stories about Blaine's epic monologue to sweep Hummel off his feet that first time. In fact, before he'd met Blaine, he thought he had to be a bit of a freak that would one day work for Hallmark. The romance between Blaine and Hummel had been sickeningly revered by the other Warblers, but having listened to Blaine, it's impossible not to be reminded of the stories he'd heard, the little details like Blaine taking Hummel's hand, leaving Hummel speechless, and then the kiss which sealed the start of their relationship.

He doubts Blaine has any intention to kiss  _him_ , though.

Regardless, he's never been on the receiving end of such a speech from Blaine, so utterly heartfelt and desperately earnest. It's impossible not to feel like he's received the closure he's waited almost a decade to have – to have Blaine acknowledge he screwed up and it had hurt Sebastian. Some sort of weight lifts from his heart and some of the blackness in his lungs escapes into the air.

Blaine is looking like someone kicked him in the shin without apologising, the assault so offensive to his sensibilities that he's not sure what to do next. Sebastian recognises the expression on his face. It's the one he gets when he doesn't get the answer he's expecting fast enough and is now thinking of new ways to try wheedling the words out.

"You're forgiven," Sebastian says, despite knowing he never needed to forgive Blaine in the first place. He harboured no ill-will for the decision he knew had been wrong. He'd just held onto pain. A lot of pain. And maybe a little bit of betrayal.

The tension in Blaine's shoulders and the lines marring his forehead ease. For once, it feels as though Sebastian said the correct thing when offering comfort.

"Thank you." Another gentle squeeze to his hand before Blaine finally draws his hand away. Sebastian almost wants to claw it back just so it will continue to anchor him to the moment, but knows he shouldn't. "I don't know about you, but I'm  _starving_ and everything inside me needs coffee. Will you join me somewhere for breakfast?"

There's a smile on Blaine's face which is more genuine, his cheeks a little pink like the bashful schoolboy Sebastian had been infatuated with (at least until he wondered if maybe it was more than an infatuation).

"I suppose I  _should_  eat," Sebastian sighs, shaking off the blanket and slowly raising himself. His knees brush against Blaine's when he sits up and he tries to ignore the feelings that simmer in his stomach at the slight touch. He puts it down to the nausea associated with the hangover. "Do you mind if I shower first?"

"Not at all." Blaine waves his hand in a vaguely shooing motion. It both annoys and amuses him to be shooed around in his own apartment. "I'll be here when you get out."

 _I'll be here when you wake_.

The words echo from the night before, an easy-going promise to be there for him. They're as unfamiliar as they are welcome. Blaine was always dropping things to rush off and meet with Hummel, even if that meant leaving Sebastian with half a cup of coffee and an apologetic smile. It's nice to feel like Blaine is there for  _him_  although he doesn't dare ask if Blaine has a new partner.

It seems he hasn't got the stomach for that either.

* * *

They spend so long talking over and after breakfast that the waiter has to ask them to leave because they're taking up a table and the busy lunch hour is about to start. Unaware that so much time had passed, Sebastian leaves a generous tip and he and Blaine walk towards Central Park. They'd bought sandwiches along Seventh Avenue to eat if they get hungry later and Sebastian realises this day could easily expand to include dinner. It's been a long time since he's had three meals with the same person in a single day, but he doesn't intend to ask Blaine if he wants to get dinner together. It would probably be pushing his luck, if not Blaine's hospitality. It would probably also lead to more curiosity about where his husband is, and why he's willing to get dinner with someone else. He wonders if Blaine is still hung up about cheating on Hummel in his senior year and whether eating copious amounts of food and sharing a ridiculous amount of conversation could be classed as 'cheating'.

It seems Blaine quickly becomes aware of, and is entirely unfazed by, the icy walls Sebastian has placed around his personal life over the years. The questions he asks over breakfast, during their walk away from the breakfast table, and while eating lunch are trivial, easy and genuine. For all Sebastian's determination to avoid opening himself to the possibility of being hurt again, Blaine chips away at his exterior until he realises he's smiling honestly for the first time in years. It's only small, but something sparkles in Blaine's eyes when he sees it and Sebastian doesn't think he's imagining the blush in his cheeks. It reminds Sebastian of all the times he'd aimed to elicit as much flush-faced Anderson as possible.

For the most part, he thinks Blaine's the one that dominates the conversation. He fills any tense air with ridiculous stories of trying to live with Rachel Berry and her constant singing of scales and rehearsing of audition songs. He explains how he'd started out in teaching but after a week in the classroom, he discovered there was no way he could teach thirty people at once. He loved the content, he loved being surrounded by kids, but he couldn't properly  _reach_  them the way he wanted to. Controlling public school kids was vastly different from the eager attitude to learn that was the norm at Dalton. Blaine had realised that after spending a week disciplining unruly students who checked out of lessons he'd spent hours planning, his passion was going to be consumed very quickly. He'd done some soul-searching and recalled his enjoyment of the child and adolescent courses and that was how he'd swapped majors midway through his degree.

Sebastian can see the enthusiasm which twinkles in Blaine's eyes and the curve of his lips, an expression he used to see when Blaine was performing on stage. He can see Blaine really loves what he does as he discusses some of his past cases, omitting certain details to avoid breaching any confidentiality agreement, but Blaine's pride is obvious when he talks of the adolescents he's helped while they grapple with coming out, or the solutions he's found for those with problematic home lives, or the resilience he'd built within those who were the victims of relentless bullying.

Sebastian suspects that Blaine's trying to be the person he wishes he'd had when he was struggling during the turbulent teenage years, a person who was dedicated to patiently working with the kids until they had found the right path. Sebastian can't fault Blaine for his decision, because his words reveal his passion for helping these kids, but he can't say he understands it. He's never had much of an affinity for people who didn't know what a hard life was like but he supposes there's something fulfilling about seeing someone feel better about themselves and knowing you helped with that. Blaine had always been generous and selfless – the amount of times Blaine had put his heart out there for Hummel to trample were too numerous for Sebastian to recall.

It's nearing mid-afternoon when Blaine checks his phone and realises the time. One of those disarmingly apologetic smiles he remembers from when he was seventeen is flashed his way and he knows what's coming before it's even said. He wonders if he's right and Blaine is a taken man. He isn't ignorant to the fact that Blain's present relationship status hasn't come up once.

"I'm really sorry but I need to get going." Blaine brushes invisible crumbs off his lap – something Sebastian suspects is more of a nervous habit since Blaine has brushed his hands against his thighs to rid them of crumbs several times already. "I really enjoyed myself today. I… I gave you my card with my number, and I know you called and texted my cell so I would have your number. Is it… Do you mind if I save your number into my phone to call or text you again?"

The warmth Sebastian had felt at spending the day with someone had faded with the knowledge Blaine is leaving, but it blossoms when Blaine indicates his desire to communicate again. He nods and Blaine gives him one of those delighted smiles, his eyes all sparkly, his cheeks pink, that used to make Sebastian's day.

They climb to their feet and pick up the rubbish from lunch to deposit in a bin on their exit from the park. Sebastian's hands find their way into the pockets of his jeans because he's not sure where they should be. He doesn't dare reach for Blaine's hand to hold but he's seen Blaine's eyes fall to his ring more times than he could count today. The other man hasn't tried to hide his curiosity.

"I really enjoyed today," Blaine says again, all warm smiles and bouncing on the balls of his feet because he's still so much shorter than Sebastian. It's endearing seeing him more like the boy Sebastian remembers but he worries it will make Blaine wriggle into the place in his heart that he'd tried to cut away while witnessing the proposal. He can't afford to be betrayed by Blaine's naivety again.

"Thank you for…coming over last night," Sebastian says awkwardly, because he doesn't trust that Blaine enjoyed being with him and he's out of practice expressing his gratitude to someone who's so willing to help without expecting anything in return.

Blaine waves it off with that little shooing motion again. He wonders if it's something Blaine has picked up from Hummel. He doesn't remember Blaine being so dismissive of things in the past. "You sounded like you needed help and I always help my friends," Blaine assures.

 _Friends_.

The word stirs something in Sebastian's chest. Somehow, after nine years and numerous broken relationships between them both, Blaine is so quick and willing to call him a  _friend_ again.

Blaine really  _does_  put his heart on the line too often.

There are a few minutes of shuffling on the spot and glancing around him before Blaine touches his arm and lightly squeezes his bicep to gain his attention. He finds himself drowning in honey, a vision that had filled his seventeen-year-old dreams on many occasions.

"If you need help again, don't be afraid to call me, okay?"

Sebastian wonders why Blaine would help him without consequence, if maybe Blaine sees him as one of the broken adolescent clients and pities him because he doesn't know what ticks in Sebastian's head. Maybe Sebastian is Blaine's latest puzzling patient, someone Blaine wants to unravel, but Sebastian can't turn down the offer of help. These days, he has very few numbers to call.

He nods, and Blaine gives him a grin and says goodbye and Sebastian breathes some sort of farewell in response because the brunette is already hurrying towards the nearest subway station and tapping something into his phone.

Sebastian watches him until the ridiculous brown leather jacket and black pants disappear around a corner. He turns in the opposite direction, intending to head back to the east side of New York, when he realises he probably has a meeting he should attend.

He glances over his shoulder before changing course for a different location.

* * *

When Sebastian gets home that night, his mind and body exhausted after a night on the couch and listening to Blaine and nursing his hangover, he has another long shower before getting into bed.

He picks up his phone to set an alarm for the morning and realises there's a message. He hasn't programmed Blaine's number in, but he recognises the digits and soon recognises the words.

> _I meant it when I said I really enjoyed hanging out with you.  
>  Don't be afraid! - B_

His thumb rubs against the screen, absorbing the words into his skin. He considers replying, but isn't sure what to say. He sets an alarm, puts his phone down, and curls around a pillow with a small smile on his face.

* * *

Sebastian refuses to admit that he contacts Blaine a few days later because he needs help. It's more because he's lonely, and his internship is stressful, and it's been  _so long_  since he had someone that he could call a  _friend_  that he's typing out the message before he can doubt himself.

> _Do you want to get a drink tonight?_

He knows he won't  _actually_  drink, the beer was enough to last him a few months or years, but he figures that's a detail that isn't needed in the text he sends. Besides, it would add to the questions he's fairly sure Blaine must be brimming with. He wonders if there's a notebook filled with questions he'd ask, like the paper Blaine uses to take notes on when he's with clients.

The response comes through forty-two minutes later. Forty-two minutes in which Sebastian has been tapping his feet beneath the table and hitting his pen on the desk and staring at his computer screen blankly because data entry isn't a good distraction from the fluttering butterflies right now.

> _Was with a client. I'm sorry!  
>  I would love to, though. Somewhere between my work and your work and my home and your home?_

Sebastian has no idea where Blaine works or lives, but he figures it sounds like a good idea.

> _You know where I live. You pick a place halfway between that and wherever you live and I'll deal with the commute from work._

The response this time only takes three minutes and sixteen seconds. It's an address only a few blocks from where he works – he wonders if Blaine works or lives close to the location he's sitting in right now. It's easy enough to get to and his heart quivers with excitement and nerves.

He sends back a confirmation, and a time, and puts his phone in his pocket when he sees his boss' door open, madly typing in data from the files into his computer to look as busy as possible.

He focuses so intently that he doesn't realise he's smiling a little.

* * *

Blaine is there when he gets to the restaurant and Sebastian isn't sure he's surprised. He imagines Blaine probably operates on similar schedules to a teacher – once the students leave the gates so does Blaine's clientele. It's a luxury Sebastian wishes he had given his propensity for late nights at the office because his boss is a reincarnated demon.

They decide on splitting a pizza and when Sebastian orders a Coke, there's a brief pause of surprise, a puzzled frown, before Blaine orders a Sprite. He can see the question on Blaine's tongue but it's gone with a blink and a swallow and the expression morphs into something else. Sebastian thinks about how easily he could read Blaine in school, teasing him into blushing and stumbling over his words when the questions left so much room for innuendo, but it seems like Blaine has learned how to close off parts of him within an instant, his face becoming something impossibly foreign to Sebastian's multilingual mind.

Blaine's questions are again simple and uncomplicated, and whenever there's a moment of silence, he knows how to fill it with a question or comment or observation or a story without it seeming contrived or drawing attention to the gap in conversation. He's animated and alive and Sebastian revels in it, because he hasn't spent time with anyone like this in years. It refuels him, freeing sections of his lungs and waking dormant parts of his soul he thought had died rather than mere hibernation.

By the end of the night, when they're walking along the street in a direction that takes Sebastian further from home, he realises he doesn't want the night to end. It's too fast and too soon and he doesn't want to take Blaine home for  _sex_ , but…he's missed the company of someone to talk to.

They pause at a quiet corner, the street light forming a circle around them and shining off Blaine's lightly gelled hair like a halo. He looks small and innocent, the way Sebastian remembered him once being. It had been moments like this that he'd just wanted to shelter Blaine in his arms and refuse to let Hummel hurt him again.

Except he knows that stepping closer isn't an option anymore and he's forced to sway on the spot, unsure of how to let Blaine go for the night since waving or speaking seem like they'd shatter the moment. It's like he hasn't learned anything since high school and he's still that insecure teenager who used a mask of sarcastic confidence to hide behind.

"Can I hug you?" Blaine asks, his voice sudden in the relative stillness of a bustling night in New York. Sebastian feels stunned by the question and doesn't respond for several moments, his gaze calculating as he watches the smaller man squirm. "It's just… You look like you need a hug, Sebastian. If you'd rather not, then that's okay but-"

Sebastian holds out his hands, opening his body to Blaine's without speaking. He receives a delighted smile followed by arms wrapping around his middle and it takes him a few moments of hesitation to respond – he might be a little out of practice with hugging people – but his arms eventually curl around Blaine's body to hold him close. Blaine's one of those people who puts everything into a hug, never letting go first because he wants the other person to obtain as much comfort from the embrace as possible. His body is warm and safe, his head the perfect height for Sebastian to rest his cheek against. The reduction in gel usage means he doesn't get his cheek covered in sticky goop and he decides that's a point in Blaine's favour for post-high school changes.

He avoids leaning his cheek against Blaine's hair though, instead savouring the ability to hold onto someone warm and solid and real for several minutes. He breathes in the scent of raspberries and coffee and vanilla and cinnamon and feels his heart rate and breathing slow, calming to a level of tranquillity he hasn't experienced for a while. It stirs his stomach with something he'd never admit were reinvigorated butterflies. He seems to be getting that feeling around Blaine a lot lately.

He breaks the hug only because there's a limit to his tolerance of comfort and touch and he knows it will be breached if he holds Blaine any longer. It doesn't feel right to be hugging him in public either.

"Thank you for the invitation tonight. I'd really like to do it again sometime."

And there's Blaine, with that insatiably hopeful grin that Sebastian will never be able to turn down. He can already tell it's going to get his heart into trouble again.

He nods and they say their goodbyes. Blaine goes one way and Sebastian goes the other. Each step separating them chills him a little more, but he understands there's a separation of their lives and space and… Well… Maybe he'd just have liked to keep Blaine around a little longer tonight.

He doesn't dare think about why that might be.

* * *

They start meeting a few nights a week and those nights spread across several weeks, which turns into several months. The ice barriers around Sebastian's soul thaw with each of Blaine's warm smiles and brief giggles. He can tell there are still questions, enough questions by now to fill at least two notebooks, but Blaine respectfully doesn't ask them and Sebastian doesn't volunteer answers he knows the man wants. He knows that causes a question in itself, since he used to be liberal with his snarky, sometimes rude, words and behaviour and now it's been toned down. He can tell Blaine is surprised when he avoids responding to something that begs for a lewd comment.

Yet Blaine redirects the conversation and asks things that Sebastian feels comfortable answering. They talk about books and movies and music, about friends they once had in common and what they're doing now, about assignments Sebastian has to complete for grad school in the next couple of months, about Blaine's interest in returning to pursue another Masters in some psychological discipline that might have made more sense if it had been explained in Japanese.

His defences are gradually disarmed.

The worst part is that he can't tell whether he likes it or it terrifies him.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	3. Chapter 3

 

* * *

 **Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  8,115  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

"Have you got any plans for Thanksgiving?"

It's early October and the question is so out of the blue and sudden and unexpected and  _early_  that Sebastian drops his fork to his plate. It clatters against the crockery before sliding off the table and tinkling to the floor. Blaine reaches to grab it but when he misses, he calls over a waiter who swoops in to replace it.

It's not until Blaine thanks the waiter and holds out the new fork that he realises Sebastian still hasn't responded, much less moved a muscle, since dropping the original fork.

Since the question Blaine had asked.

Since the question…

Since…

"Seb?" Blaine puts the fork down and touches the back of his hand. It shakes Sebastian out of the place his thoughts had gone and he bats the hand away. The touches had become more frequent, blurring the line between something he was comfortable with and something he didn't want to allow. It felt like betrayal.

"No, I don't." His answer is clipped, his eyes on the food. His appetite vanishes and he needs to get away because it's like he's suffocating inside a restaurant with high ceilings and enough light that it doesn't feel like some sort of romantic date but his lungs are starting to burn and squeeze in his chest and he's hastily, blindly, throwing some bills on the table and walking out because he can't get enough air and he just needs to  _breathe_.

He can hear Blaine calling after him but he can't focus on it. It's like he's underwater and everything is distorted and undulating beneath his feet. His vision blurs and tilts once he's outside and searching for somewhere dark to retreat to, an alley he can take refuge in, somewhere he can hide his emotional implosion. He doesn't even realise he's bent double until he feels an arm around his waist pulling him up, a hand at the back of his neck holding his head to a shoulder several inches too short. His fingers dig into the fabric out of reflex, fisting it between shaking fingers, and it feels like  _hours_  until he becomes aware of Blaine's quiet voice talking into his ear.

No, not talking.

 _Singing_.

In the many months they had spent time together, he hadn't heard Blaine sing. It was in the notebook of unasked questions Sebastian had begun compiling in his head. He'd begun to wonder if Blaine had lost his will to sing after letting go of Hummel. He'd suggested karaoke a month ago and Blaine had laughed off the suggestion and said he didn't want to hear those without talent singing songs that should have stayed in their respective decade. Just like the many things Blaine had realised Sebastian wouldn't talk about, Sebastian had recognised that there was something about music, about singing, which Blaine didn't want to participate in and it left Sebastian feeling desperately sad.

Until Blaine had decided to participate again right now.

He doesn't recognise the song but it doesn't really matter. It's the sweetest thing he's heard in years, and he remembers Trent telling him about the former leader who sang like a dream. Hearing Blaine sing the first time in  _West Side Story_  had been spellbinding and extraordinary. He'd listened to those notes soar over the auditorium, had witnessed the raw power of every emotion playing in Blaine's eyes. Perhaps he'd attended Blaine's show choir competitions after that because of his infatuation, but there was also a part, a very large part, that was in awe of the voice that belonged to the object of his interest.

Slowly his grip relaxes, his unsteady breathing evens into something regular, and his knees stop threatening to give out on him. He can't look Blaine in the eye after that, refusing the suggestion of getting something else to eat or a coffee or hot chocolate. He refuses Blaine's suggestion of accompanying him back to his apartment to make sure he'll be okay. He needs privacy to fall apart and put himself together again, to permit himself the time and space to grieve because who is he kidding – he hasn't dealt with this at all.

More than anything, he needs to shield Blaine from seeing him go to pieces.

Blaine's expression betrays his discomfort as he says goodbye. Sebastian can feel the hazel gaze on his back as he walks down the street. It feels like the stare follows him for miles. Sometimes he looks over his shoulder to make sure Blaine isn't following him home. Each time, the street behind him is empty of a small, curly-haired brunette.

By the time he reaches his apartment, Sebastian is exhausted. He struggles to get the door open and shut, shuffles to the couch without knocking something over in the dark, and falls into the embrace of a blanket and cushion with silent tears rolling down his cheeks and sobs rattling around his chest.

When the crying fit passes, he finds he's too exhausted to move. He allows himself to fall asleep on the couch again.

* * *

He ignores Blaine's texts, voicemails and texts for almost two weeks. He stops charging his phone and the battery dies, which is a blessed relief from the frequent chiming and then the buzzing after he'd set it to silent. He has to dig out his old alarm clock to wake him up in the mornings and somehow that shrill beeping and the flailing hand that shoots out from beneath his pillow to knock the device into silence annoys him far more than the regular alarm on his phone.

It seems like his boss becomes even more infuriating than usual during those two weeks, demanding more and more work to be completed despite knowing Sebastian's emotional limitations and his ability to stress easily. There's an assignment due at some point in the next month and once he gets home, he can't even focus on it. The words on his laptop and in his textbooks swim in front of him and he gives up with varying levels of frustrated noises.

One time he throws a glass of water at the wall because he just has the urge to hurl something, to make something break. He's satisfied by the shattering sound until he goes to get up and realises the glass has splintered far and wide and he isn't wearing shoes.

Maybe that's why it's so surprising that it takes Blaine almost two weeks to show up on his doorstep. Maybe there's a small part that resents Blaine for taking so long to check on him, but he knows that thought isn't fair. Sebastian knows it's his fault because he stopped responding. It's something he's done before but Blaine had been too wrapped up in his new engagement to notice. This time… Well, he doesn't know with absolute certainty that Blaine has another partner – Blaine has kept elements of his personal life quiet, perhaps out of respect for Sebastian not talking about his own – but Sebastian knows Blaine sure as hell isn't engaged.

The knock is loud enough to break through the latest spell of staring blankly at something on the Saturday night TV schedule. It has been a swirl of colours and sounds for hours but he hasn't registered anything. He's tired, he's always tired, and he knows he hasn't been eating properly again.

At least he hasn't been drinking.

He thinks maybe the person at the door is his landlady, or that English couple down the corridor who always seem to be out of sugar and milk and always seem to ask  _him_  for help. So when he opens it, and sees Blaine, he stills with the door handle painful in his tight grip.

"I'm s-" Blaine starts the apology automatically, but it dies on his lips when his eyes meet Sebastian's. He wonders what he looks like that it causes  _that_  sort of reaction. He hasn't looked at himself in the mirror for almost a week. "Can I come in?"

Sebastian stares. If he'd been more aware of things, then it could have passed as being scrutinising, but mostly it's just staring. There's nothing really working in his brain anymore – which has made work too hard and his boss too angry – but he moves away from the door and Blaine presses forward and shuts it behind him.

They stand there for several minutes, Blaine staring at Sebastian and Sebastian staring at Blaine. Blaine's clearly doing his psychological profiling thing. Sebastian's just staring.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says finally, finishing his opening statement, and Sebastian wonders what it's for. It's  _he_  who has been avoiding all communication. Surely that means it should be Sebastian making the apologies?

He shrugs it off and turns to go back to his couch but Blaine catches his arm. It's like that time in the street when they'd first met, grabbing at each other rather than just saying  _stop_. Sebastian wonders if it's normal to touch this much.

He goes to ask what it is Blaine wants but once he starts to turn back, he receives an armful of Blaine Anderson, his face pressing into Sebastian's chest. Maybe Blaine was apologising in advance because of his urge to hug him? He's so bewildered that it takes him almost a minute to bring his hands to rest on the back of Blaine's head and shoulder blades, folding the shorter male into his body which leads to a little hum and tightening of Blaine's grip.

They could stand there for an hour – because Blaine refuses to let go first – but Sebastian realises one of his thigh muscles is quivering with fatigue. He needs to sit down because his leg is threatening to collapse beneath him and he doesn't want to take Blaine down with him.

"Come with me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers wrap around Blaine's wrist. He leads the man to his bedroom, ignoring that the TV is a distant murmur in the living room.

"I don't-"

"I can't see you properly if we sit on the couch," Sebastian interrupts, climbing onto one side of the bed and gazing at where Blaine is lingering in the doorway. "I'm not going to have  _sex_  with you, Blaine. Jesus."

He can see the indecision on Blaine's face before he gives in, removes his shoes, and climbs onto the bed. They're both on their sides, their heads resting on pillows, their eyes focused on each other.

Sebastian hasn't lain in bed like this with anyone since-

"Do you want to sleep?" Blaine's hand touches Sebastian's cheek and his thoughts stop. Blaine's thumb traces along the curve of darkness beneath his eye. Sebastian doesn't want to sleep. He's afraid he'll wake and Blaine will be a hallucination, that maybe that's all he's ever been the past few months.

"Come here," Sebastian says, ignoring the question and opening his arms. He's not used to being tactile anymore, but holding Blaine quenches a thirst that has been dehydrating him for years. He needs more and he knows the male will comply because Blaine is far more tactile than he's ever been – or ever will be.

Blaine shakes his head and Sebastian feels his heart plummet somewhere to his knees, until arms open in front of him. "I want to hold you. Come  _here_."

It takes a little bit of manoeuvring – Sebastian has only been little spoon a few times, never with Blaine, and not in  _years_  – but he's soon curled with Blaine's body surrounding him. He can feel the strength in Blaine's arms and he likes the way their knees curve together and that he can feel Blaine's chest expanding against his back. He thinks he might like this even more than if he'd been holding Blaine to his chest.

Silence falls over them but it's not uncomfortable – words just aren't needed and Sebastian feels safe where he is. When Blaine starts to stroke his hair and rub the back of his neck with his thumb, he whines quietly, tilting his head for more because it's been so  _long_  since anyone's offered him this level of comfort. He can feel the little huff of amusement against the back of his neck from Blaine's mouth, but the touching continues until it begins to fade away and he's lulled to sleep.

* * *

The room is dark and the apartment is silent when he wakes. It takes him a minute to register that he's still being held and he wonders how Blaine was able to move and switch everything off. Sebastian's a notoriously light sleeper – it had made sleeping in the Dalton dorms hellish sometimes – but the blankets have been pulled over his body and Blaine is tucked into the same position around him as before.

Sebastian chalks it up to wizardry.

Carefully, he rolls over in Blaine's arms so he can see the face of the man behind him. His eyes are closed, long eyelashes fanning across his cheeks. His breathing is slow and even against his slightly parted lips. Sebastian's gaze lingers on his mouth, remembering how he used to look at Blaine's lips when they were younger and just  _want_. He would never kiss Blaine while he was sleeping, but it's nice to have the opportunity to admire and commit the details of his relaxed face to memory.

Blaine grunts in his sleep, tightening his arms for a moment, before the eyelashes open and Sebastian is caught staring into dark eyes, the limited light casting deep shadows over the planes of his skin.

"Hi," Blaine whispers when he realises Sebastian is watching him. He doesn't look embarrassed, which Sebastian hopes is a good thing. He winces and moves his arms around Sebastian's body, a hand settling in the curve of his waist and the other arm in a slightly different position to support his head.

He still feels safe.

Their eyes stay focused on each other's, even when the room begins to lighten just a fraction. They've probably stared at each other for hours, but it's never felt weird. Sebastian isn't someone who holds this much eye contact anymore but Blaine is the exception. Blaine has  _always_  been an exception and maybe he always will be.

As the room lightens, Blaine's eyes change from coal to dark amber and the slope of his nose shadows his cheek. Sebastian isn't sure what he looks like, but it's fascinating to watch the light change Blaine. He remembers doing this same activity years ago, and it makes him ache with memories.

It doesn't feel so much like betrayal right now.

Something in Blaine's expression shifts and the hand that has been on Sebastian's waist moves to cup his cheek, angling his head. His eyes search Sebastian's, as if he's trying to read his thoughts. With all that psychology mumbo jumbo, maybe Blaine can.

"What are you thinking about?" Blaine asks, his voice still hushed. It's like he doesn't want to disturb the morning stillness, like if he talks normally then Sebastian will skitter away like a frightened animal. Maybe he would. Sebastian's not used to this anymore.

"I'm… I realised laying here with you doesn't feel…wrong," he concedes, his eyes lowering to Blaine's lips, chin and neck. Blaine gives his cheek a little tug and it brings his eyes back.

"Because it would have been cheating before?" Blaine's so innocent, so gentle, and Sebastian wants to wrap him up in a baby blanket to shelter the man holding him from the harsh realities of lives he hasn't lived. Except Blaine probably hears about harsh lives every other day.

"It would have been betraying his memory."

The confession is barely formed on his exhalation, but it's so quiet in the room that Blaine hears it. Sebastian can see the way Blaine's face shifts as he understands the implication behind the words. Blaine's always known he chooses his words carefully, whether to attack or to apologise or to articulate something profoundly challenging. Such a habit has never changed.

Blaine wriggles closer, tucking Sebastian against his body. Ordinarily Sebastian would protest, but he thinks that talking might make him shake out of his skin again. Blaine's warm and solid and protective, and he doesn't want to let go of that.

"Will you tell me about him?" Blaine says, his hands steady on Sebastian's back. He's not pushing. There's no pressure.

Regardless of that fact, Sebastian knows his icy walls are about to melt and start a river of tears.

He doesn't want to hide this part of him anymore.

Blaine deserves the truth.

"He was… I met him my second week of college," he murmurs, feeling Blaine's hand curl around the back of his neck. It draws some of the tension from his shoulders. "He was looking completely lost outside one of the buildings, so I stopped to see if I could help and it turned out we were going to the same law tutorial. We sat together in class, and then he asked me out for drinks afterwards." A small smile plays on Sebastian's lips as he remembers his indignation that someone had asked  _him_  out because he didn't  _date_  and the first move  _certainly_  wasn't made by someone  _else_. "We sat at the bar until four in the morning. I don't even think we drank that much because we were too busy talking. The bartender kicked us out and we walked back to the dorms together. He... He was the first person I'd met that I didn't want to kiss straight away, the first person I wanted to truly make things special for."

It's not entirely truthful, because there had been moments he'd had those thoughts around Blaine, but this was different. That first day was like the whole world blossomed into life in front of him, flooding his senses with technicolour. He knew he'd  _never_  had that sort of sensation with Blaine.

Blaine's other hand rubs slow circles between his shoulder blades and it's the only thing stopping him from dissolving into another fit of panic. "Sounds like quite the guy. What was his name?"

"Andrew, but he preferred Drew or Andy. Andrew was 'when he was in trouble with his mom'." He feels rather than hears Blaine's breathy giggle against his hair, and he curls closer to the warm body holding him. "First semester law was hard, so we formed a study group with a few other people from our class. I'm not sure I learned much. He and I used to spend too much time playing footsie beneath the table and annoying one of the girls when we'd accidentally kick her shin instead."

Blaine snorts. "Sebastian Smythe playing  _footsie_. Oh my God."

Sebastian pokes Blaine's chest but the teasing helps with the pain weighing on his shoulders. "Maybe it was cliché, but our first kiss wasn't until New Year. He was by my side when midnight rang and I... I'd waited  _months_  and enough was enough. Nothing else mattered when I kissed him, and Andy was… He pulled away laughing and said he was glad I'd done that, because he'd been waiting for months and thought he'd have to check into a mental asylum if he went any crazier."

"Sounds familiar," Blaine mumbles, and Sebastian remembers the stories that had followed Blaine kissing Hummel. He doesn't really want to tie them together in his head, but he can't deny the similarities. They were both stubborn. They were both oblivious. "With an attitude like that, I think I can see why you liked him."

Sebastian shrugs as best as he can with Blaine's arms surrounding him. "He was a law student. Everything I said had a counterargument and it was always lightning fast. He was cocky and confident, but there was a shyness to him which was why he hadn't kissed me first. He challenged me and I challenged him and together… We just  _worked_."

He feels Blaine nodding, fingers tiptoeing down the ladder of his spine in an attempt to keep him soothed. It's getting harder not to unravel completely though. His hand bunches into Blaine's shirt.

"Some people said we did things fast, but it never seemed that way. We spent so much time together and it always felt so natural that we just progressed through relationship milestones faster than some people." He swallows and tries to wet his lips, but his tongue is dry. "We moved out of the dorms into our own apartment in the summer between freshman and sophomore year. It was one of those first nights in our place that we finally had sex for the first time, which was ten months after we'd met. I'd  _never_  waited that long for anyone. When we were coming down, Andy whispered that he loved me and I… I realised I loved him too." Sebastian feels a tear slide down his cheek as the echo of Andy's voice plays inside his ear. No one had said something like that to him before. Andy had been his first in so many ways, leaving marks all over his heart and soul that had never faded.

Blaine must hear his attempt at covering the sniffling because he pulls back a fraction, his thumb wiping at the wetness beneath Sebastian's eyes. It's easy to see the shiny trails on Blaine's face, but he doesn't say anything. He's afraid he'll get side-tracked trying to offer comfort and shut down again, stop talking and lock all the pain away.

"So what happened next?" Blaine prompts once Sebastian's face is dried and Blaine has wrapped blankets and protective arms around him again.

"I proposed to him in the same spot we'd shared our first kiss the following New Year. We had so much sex that night that both of us could barely walk the next day, but I didn't regret it and neither did he." Sebastian curls his left hand against Blaine's solid chest, feeling the heaviness of the ring on his finger. "We had a small wedding in the summer with a few friends of ours from college and our families. Dad wasn't exactly pleased, but mom was able to keep him quiet. And life went on in our apartment, setting up for our junior year of college as  _husbands_. I'd never thought it would be possible but Andy… We never fought. Not like you and Hummel. There was never a time that he or I raised our voices. We could finish each other's sentences. We could know without a word how the other's day had gone. I'd… I've never known anything like it."

Blaine's nose presses into Sebastian's hair and he realises that Blaine's shaking. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there. He moves his hands from Blaine's chest to loop around his body, and the smaller man sags into being held. Sebastian's crawled into a place of numbness and can't imagine what Blaine is trying to process.

"We… W-We went to my parents for Thanksgiving in junior year." Sebastian's breathing catches and Blaine holds him tighter. "I'd had too much to drink so Andy insisted on driving us back to the hotel because he hadn't had anything. He didn't know the roads though, and he took a turn a little too fast. When he tried to overcorrect, he swerved onto the wrong side of the road. There was some ice on the road which made the car skid and…he…h-he took the full impact of the truck c-coming the other way…"

His lungs are tight but he needs to finish the story. He owes it to Blaine. He owes it to himself. He's never told anyone, aside from the police for the accident investigation report, what happened. Not even Andy's parents.

"They…said he d-died almost instantly from the way his neck would have been s-snapped around and the force that his h-head hit the window beside him. I…broke an arm and a leg and a few ribs, had a concussion, but none of that m-mattered. Nothing m-mattered but…b-but that I kept…s-screaming for him to t-talk to me and he…h-he never d-did…"

Blaine starts hushing him before the sobs have even taken hold, running his fingers through Sebastian's hair like the night before. He doesn't quite break into a panic attack, but it hurts. It  _hurts_. Pain carves open his chest and spills all over Blaine's chest, his clothes, the sheets. He's more frayed than he's ever acknowledged as he unravels in Blaine's arms. He clings to Blaine like the man is a rock in a raging river and time ceases to matter as waves of agony surge through his belly and chest, as his heart cracks open and devastates his capacity to breathe.

The crying slows only when he's too exhausted to cry anymore. He's cried a lot over the years, but he's never had anyone to comfort him through it, to soothe him with gentle touches and quiet words.

He's never allowed anyone to be that close.

"I… I d-dropped out of college for two years," he whispers, forcing the conclusion of the story past his lips. "I alternated between getting d-drunk and passing out, or crying until I passed out. I shut out all my…our…college friends and only talked to my parents occasionally. We s-still don't talk much." He bites his lip, breathing in Blaine's scent that has become muddled by the salty tears staining his shirt. He thinks he can still catch the faintest whiffs of raspberry and coffee.

"At s-some point, I… I got so drunk that I blacked out in an alleyway. A homeless guy thought I was dead, found my phone to call 911, left my IDs behind, and t-took my wallet. The cops tracked him down eventually by tracking the credit card purchases." He shakes his head, realising those sorts of details are irrelevant in the larger scheme of things. "Anyway, I ended up in the ER with alcohol poisoning and it was the first time that I heard that I… I was causing permanent damage to my liver. A nurse encouraged me to a rehab facility or AA meetings because she said I'd either die in the street or my liver would give out on me."

There's a soft, " _Oh Jesus, Seb_ ," against his hair, but otherwise Blaine stays still and silent.

"I got sober, went to meetings, earned chips, went back to school. The rehab shrinks thought I had developed depression and PTSD. Maybe they were right because everything was an effort and I had panic attacks and nightmares all the time."

"You still do," Blaine murmurs as he rubs his thumb against the back of Sebastian's neck. It stirs him from the swirling despair that lingers just beneath the surface.

"Yeah, I do," he admits, his eyes closing because Blaine seems to know how to lull him into a state of being loose and pliant. "I… I'd used alcohol to numb myself but underneath it all, I hadn't really grieved. I'm not sure I ever really have." He releases a large sigh as his hand settles against the curve of Blaine's lower back. "I had to get support for finishing my undergrad years because turning things in on time was nearly impossible. I'd get so anxious about deadlines and around certain important dates that I'd be physically sick. Eventually I graduated. Somewhere along the line, I began an internship with someone who could battle Meryl Streep for the Devil's crown. And…here I am."

He leaves out a lot of details but he figures that gaining the general gist of everything is more important. Blaine has told him so many things over the past few months, and Sebastian has held everything back. The fine details don't seem important right now.

The silence stretches around them as Blaine continues to move his fingers in rhythmical patterns against his skin. He knows it's a lot to take in and he waits for Blaine's analytical mind to put all the pieces together.

"That first night you called me…"

He winces, knowing he'd needed quite a few meetings to pull himself together after that and had attended all of them secretly, ducking and weaving around excuses so he hadn't had to tell Blaine at the time. It was so easy to get drunk and numb himself and then fall back into that pattern again. "I occasionally have a glass of wine if it's a business thing and it'd look weird not to, but I'm very controlled in those environments and don't see that as breaching the program. Getting drunk…" He bites his lip and feels his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "I hadn't eaten much and my tolerance isn't what it used to be. I haven't been like that in a while and I was losing my mind and I just… I didn't know who to call. I… I'm sorry you had to see it."

"It's okay." Blaine's assurance is clear and firm and Sebastian knows he needs to let go of the guilt from that night. It's pretty clear Blaine didn't mind coming over. It meant they'd begun to rekindle a friendship and Sebastian isn't sure anymore that it was such a terrible decision. "Thank you for…for telling me about Andy. I'm…really sorry you lost someone so amazing."

Saying 'you're welcome' or 'it's okay' doesn't suit either of Blaine's phrases, so Sebastian keeps quiet. He figures Blaine understands why he doesn't say anything, but it's another of those lulls in conversation where it's okay, comfortable, to lie together without speaking. He feels his racing heart slowing, the tears gradually drying, his shaky breaths steadying. It's not exactly the same as it used to be with Andy, but it's definitely a better balm to let it out and have someone hold him than ignore the festering wound he's been carrying around for years.

He pulls away at one stage, wanting to see Blaine's face. His expression is unreadable but his hazel eyes show how sad he is. Sebastian wishes he could take it away. The look of pity had been a huge part of why he'd shut out his college friends until they'd left him alone. He doesn't want Blaine to pity him. He wants to go back to when they were seventeen and it became his life's mission to make Blaine blush as much as possible. He doesn't want to be seen as a broken man, a recovered alcoholic, a lonely widower.

They stare at each other for a long time, until Blaine leans forward and presses his lips to Sebastian's forehead. It's like a mother comforting her child with a skinned knee – not that Sebastian has much experience with such a mother – and his eyes slide closed when Blaine lingers there for a few moments. He soaks in the comfort and safety, the gentle calm that the other male exudes. His icy walls have almost certainly melted to a third of their former height. He should never have expected Blaine wouldn't worm his way into Sebastian's soul again after all the warmth Blaine spread during their high school years.

The only reason he eventually pulls away is because he needs to go to the toilet. He mutters an apology when Blaine raises an eyebrow, but the need is quickly understood and the hold is relaxed. When he returns to the bedroom, they trade places and Blaine leaves for the bathroom with a lopsided grin.

It gives Sebastian a precious few minutes to sit on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his thighs. The ramifications of what he's just said and done starts to sink in when he has nothing to distract him. He's trembling as memories of screeching tyres and his strangled screams echo in his head. He clutches at his hair, his breathing ragged, and he startles when his legs get nudged apart so Blaine can stand between them. His hands peel Sebastian's fingers from his hair and smooth along his scalp until they rest against the back of his neck. Sebastian's cheek presses into Blaine's stomach and the anxiety begins to fade again. He doesn't want to know how Blaine understands what to do to calm him so easily.

If someone had said to Sebastian in the days after he'd watched Blaine propose that he would be in this position, had lived this sort of life, he would have arranged for an asylum to take away the absurd fortune teller. It feels unreal more often than not when he looks back on the past ten years.

"Do you feel like getting breakfast?" Blaine says, breaking the silence but his ministrations continue. Sebastian feels like a cat under all the petting.

"I'm… I'd rather stay in my apartment today. There's not much food though so if you want to eat, then I guess you'd have to go." Sebastian tries not to sound too disappointed at the thought of Blaine walking out the door and not returning. He wouldn't blame him though. It's a lot to take in, even for a counsellor that hears horror stories all the time.

"I'll bring you something then. What do you feel like?"

Sebastian frowns, tilts his head to see Blaine's face. Blaine's fingers curve under his jaw and over his cheekbones. "You'll come back?" He hates how much insecurity is infused in those three words.

"Of course I will. You need to eat too." Blaine says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, that naivety of his adolescence shining through for a moment.

And then he reads the expression on Sebastian's face and his fingers still.

"Do you  _really_  think I'm just going to walk out the door and leave you alone for good?"

Sebastian's eyes drop but Blaine does that little grip tightening and shaky thing to his chin to get his attention back and he huffs a sigh and returns the gaze. "I don't want you to stay out of pity. I  _can_  take care of myself."

Blaine snorts and it annoys Sebastian that he's so…dismissive. Blaine slides to his knees between Sebastian's legs so their faces are more level, his jaw set in a determined line which immediately makes Sebastian know that anything that gets said is something he won't be allowed to argue with.

"I can't deny I feel sorry for you and what you've been through which is an entirely normal reaction to have, thank you very much," Blaine says, silencing any protest that had been building in Sebastian's brain because he  _hates_  pity. "I'm sure on any other day, you could take care of yourself. On any other day, I would let you. But not today. Today,  _I'm_  taking care of  _you_."

Blaine's fingers trace over his cheekbones until thumbs rest beneath the hollows under his ears in something that's overwhelmingly comforting. "I'm not going to be shut out so easily again, Seb. Not like when I was an enamoured, engaged teen to the wrong person. I'm also nothing like your college friends." His voice is filled with strength and confidence, and it wilts some of Sebastian's defensiveness. He can't be stubborn and push away if Blaine is going to be more stubborn and push back.

"Fine."

He sounds like a brat.

The expression on Blaine's face confirms it.

"I promise you that I'll return, okay? I'll bring you back breakfast and coffee."

Blaine looks so earnest that Sebastian feels bad for shrugging and not meeting his gaze. He'll only believe Blaine will return when he actually  _does_. It's not fair to Blaine that he's filled with so much doubt and so many insecurities, but Sebastian lost his husband and his friends and it's been a while since anyone really lived up to their word.

Blaine kisses his cheek before he stands and moves away. It stuns Sebastian so much that he barely hears Blaine pulling on his shoes and leaving the apartment. He probably sits still for at least five minutes before he touches his fingers to his cheek, the flesh burning under his touch. He makes a decision to never wash his face again, wondering if that makes him sound too much like a girl who gets her favourite celebrity to autograph her breast and then squeals about it for days.

* * *

Sebastian has showered and changed, paced the floor, made the bed, tidied up the mild mess of his apartment, paced the floor some more, and then started moving things around for the sake of having something to  _do_  when he hears the knock at the door. Blaine's been gone for well over an hour and part of him gave up on the man returning because how long did it take to get two breakfasts and two coffees anyway and he didn't like being left alone after talking about Andy and-

Guilt bubbles to the surface when he sees Blaine standing on his doormat, bags of groceries surrounding his feet. It seems Blaine had been capable of carrying it all while clutching a pair of white paper bags and coffee cups in a cardboard tray, which he extends towards Sebastian.

Sebastian thought Blaine had harvested witchcraft but now he's upgrading the skill-level towards God status.

"After you fell asleep last night, I put a few things away and went looking for a glass for water and… You had almost nothing in your cupboards, Seb. I don't know what brands you like but I couldn't help myself and I'm sorry I took so long but I  _did_  promise I'd be back and I just hope I got enough to stock some of your cupboards and you'll let me in."

The words tumble past Blaine's lips in a convoluted mess, like he's afraid Sebastian will cut him off or slam the door in his face. They stare at each other for thirty seconds before Sebastian shifts to the side and takes the paper bags and coffee cups. He places them on the small kitchen table before returning to the door to give Blaine a hand with the groceries. As he starts to gather the bags, he wonders if Blaine bought one of everything in the store given the quantity of items.

The decision is silently made to put the groceries away after eating, so they each take a white bag and a coffee cup and move to the living room. The silence feels comfortable, the toastie is tasty, the coffee is his order. He shouldn't be surprised Blaine knows his coffee order and what he often eats. They've met for breakfast often enough. Blaine had always been obsessed with the details while Sebastian had been about the bigger picture.

When the cups are empty and the food is consumed, Blaine shifts in the armchair to look at Sebastian. "I'm sorry about bringing up Thanksgiving two weeks ago. If I'd known, I would never-"

"Please don't," Sebastian says as he raises a hand. He doesn't want to hear the apology. Blaine didn't know, couldn't have been expected to know, and he knows his reaction was extreme. It is what it is and now Blaine knows. The other male falls silent, but he offers a conciliatory nod.

They sit until Blaine remembers he bought ice cream and springs out of his seat, cursing under his breath at the audible pop his knee gives and hobbles towards the kitchen table. Sebastian follows, picking up their empty breakfast things to put in the bin. Andy was terribly fussy about tidying as the mess was made rather than spending hours on the weekend cleaning the apartment. ' _It leaves more time for you to worship me in bed_ ,' Andy had teased. There was no possible protest Sebastian could have made to such a statement. After his death, the habits had become too ingrained to break. Besides, bed had become a lonely place he preferred to avoid unless he was completely exhausted.

He points at cupboards and shelves for Blaine to put things away when it's clear the brunette has no idea where they should go. It probably takes longer than if Sebastian had put things away without assistance but he doesn't ask Blaine to move or leave. He craves the company more than he's willing to admit. Every time they brush fingers reaching for the same item or bump arms when moving around each other, it thaws him a little more.

Once they're finished, they end up on the couch watching a movie. Blaine's the little spoon this time because it's easier to fit their bodies on the couch that way. Sebastian's glad he's already seen the movie because he spends most of his time memorising the details of Blaine's profile or the way the light twists through his curls or reflects off his cheeks or the breathy laugh at moments that are only faintly amusing to Sebastian or the pleased hum when the good guy and girl get together towards the end. He finds himself unwilling to let go when the movie is over and Blaine must accept that they aren't going to move much because he struggles to rolls over – nearly falling off the couch in the process – until he's facing Sebastian and can see his eyes.

"Hey."

Sebastian allows a slight smile to answer Blaine's brighter one. "Hi." There's a quiet pause filled with their soft breathing before Sebastian breaks it. "Can I ask you something?"

Blaine's eyebrows raise but he nods.

"Do you… I mean… Are you… Are you in a relationship at the moment?" Sebastian stumbles over the words because he's terrified of the answer. He doesn't know where Blaine would draw the line with cheating on someone. He remembers Blaine and that Eli moron he wanted to rip apart. He remembers how it led to the breakup that had broken Blaine into pieces. He doesn't want to be responsible for-

"I've been single a couple of years now," Blaine assures, his voice gentle as a hand curves around Sebastian's arm. "There were a few guys after Kurt, but I realised I needed to figure out who I was and gain back my confidence and complete school so no, I'm not. Why?"

Sebastian feels some of the tension in his chest unwind. He's glad he's not crossing any strict boundaries Blaine might have had in place. Maybe he should have guessed Blaine was single given the amount of time they've spent together but Blaine had always been generous with his capacity to be there for everyone. There was a time he hadn't believed Hummel existed considering how much Blaine would text him.

That had changed after he'd laid eyes on the prissy senior. Once he'd seen Blaine's wide, googly-eyed stare at his boyfriend, Sebastian knew he had no chance with Blaine.

"I just… I didn't want you to…to feel like you were betraying someone by being here…with me," Sebastian explains, biting his bottom lip and shrugging one shoulder. "It would…bother me now, I guess."

Sebastian's eyes travel above Blaine's head as he says it. It's an echo of what he'd admitted this morning before his secrets had unravelled but the antithesis to what he'd once said to Blaine, childishly trying to challenge and weaken someone else's relationship because of petty jealousy and teenage bravado. Blaine had been intriguing but the 'taken' status wasn't worthy of a blip on his radar. Now that Sebastian had an awareness of the depth a relationship could have, the commitment you could make to someone… He wouldn't want to put someone in that position anymore. After he'd seen Blaine's internal destruction after cheating on Hummel, he didn't want it to happen again. And absolutely not because of him.

"You're worth it," Blaine says and the nonchalant tone catches Sebastian off-guard. He looks at Blaine in surprise, noting the pinked cheeks like he can't believe what he's just said, and he thinks it rates as one of the most adorable reactions he's gotten out of Blaine. Ever. "I mean… I knew that first day when I saw you that you weren't the same guy anymore. Your eyes were always so…so sparkly and teasing and amused. Your grin was a permanent fixture on your face and your words were always determined to make me duck my head and blush as many times as possible."

Blaine's words make Sebastian wonder if he's really changed that much. The teenage version that Blaine describes is familiar but at the same time seems impossibly alien, like someone on a movie he'd watched a long time ago. He doesn't remember the last time he laughed with real joy. He doesn't remember the last time he decided to tease someone until they buckled.

"Now that I know you a bit better, I guess you're probably pretty lonely and I think you need someone to hold you and comfort you and make sure your cupboards are stocked with adequate groceries," Blaine says, his eyes thoughtful although his lips are tilted in a faint smile. "I'm not asking for a relationship, Seb. I'm just asking you to let me help. Obviously you can say no and throw me out the door, but if I  _can_  help bring back some of the light to your eyes, then… Well, it's worth it to be here. The only person I'm betraying is myself if I ignore a friend in need."

The ease with which Blaine just hands out his trust and support and care is overwhelming to Sebastian. Before Andy, Sebastian had been guarded with his emotions and doubted everyone's intentions. Quick flings filled a void he didn't understand. It took him most of the second half of his freshman year to believe that Andy would be there whenever he called or that Andy would kiss away the uncertain words that fell from his lips while he admitted to all the flaws he knew he possessed. Sometimes he thought that was why they had moved in together so quickly. Andy thought it would help Sebastian feel more secure, that  _they_  had a home to come back to every night rather than going their separate ways all the time. Sebastian had never expressed his gratitude but he knew Andy had seen it in his eyes or the way he accepted their relationship with less anxiety.

"Thank you," Sebastian says, because he really has no idea what else he should say.

Blaine smiles, one of those delighted smiles that takes Sebastian's breath away and reminds him of why he fell so hard, so fast, as a teenager. "Can I ask  _you_  something?"

Sebastian's shoulders immediately tense with his wariness, the automatic reaction to recoil rearing its head, but he concedes a nod. There are probably three notebooks of questions Blaine would like to ask so he supposes he has to allow one from time to time.

"Why did you call me…y'know,  _that_  night? You'd had my number for three weeks." Blaine bites his lip and scrunches his nose. It's unfair how adorable Sebastian finds it. "I didn't think you were ever going to call. I was afraid I was never going to get to apologise for hurting you."

Sebastian hadn't planned on ever calling Blaine – and then he had. He thinks he's glad he did. He pauses and looks down at Blaine in his arms. No, there's no thinking required. He  _is_  glad. Blaine's helped his fractured soul heal more in the past few months than he's managed to do on his own in the last few years.

"I'd debated it for ages. I was…afraid of what you might say, I guess. I figured it would lead to getting coffee once, we'd talk through everything, and then we'd just…go our separate ways and I wasn't sure I could handle letting anyone close enough to see me.  _Really_  see me." Sebastian sighs, his breath making some of Blaine's curls twitch. "I was so drunk that… Well, no more inhibitions, you know? I didn't think you'd come over but I had no one else to call and I was… I needed to hear someone's voice." There's an unsaid implication that he thinks Blaine hears in his words – Sebastian had no one he  _wanted_  to call and no one else he  _could_  call. He hadn't for years, but Blaine was different. He'd wanted to talk to Blaine. That meant something, somehow, somewhere.

Blaine nods while he digests the words. His eyes drift over Sebastian's face. "Thank you," he says with a smile. It draws the hint of a smile to Sebastian's lips.

They cuddle together and Sebastian is lulled by Blaine's presence, the security of his hold, and the solidness of the couch behind his back. He doesn't even realise he's falling asleep until it's too late.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	4. Chapter 4

 

* * *

**Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  7,524  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

Their meetings increase from every second or third day to almost every night.

Occasionally Sebastian has to work late or Blaine is too tired from a long day of listening to people and just wants to go home to his bed and sleep, but Sebastian knows they still see each other a  _lot_.

Usually they end up at Sebastian's place, curled up on the couch or the bed after eating dinner and exchanging quiet stories. Sebastian slowly begins to talk about Andy more and the playing field of secrets shared begins to level out. Blaine is always interested, gently prompting and then offering comfort when Sebastian stumbles through a memory, like his first real date with Andy two days after New Year that had made him think he'd really met the perfect person. Other times, Blaine is crying with laughter like when Sebastian tells him of the first time he and Andy tried having sex in the shower and it ended up with Andy fracturing his wrist and Sebastian bruising his tail bone after they slipped on the tiled floor.

Sometimes he wonders if he should be telling Blaine so much about Andy. Is it wrong to share intimate, sexual details of a deceased husband with a friend? He can see the funny side of the stories too, and Blaine's giggles lead to a more genuine, larger smile than he's had in years, but still he wonders if it's inappropriate, if there's an invisible line where he's saying too much. Blaine never indicates he doesn't want to hear it, that he's uncomfortable with the discussion, but the uncertainty lurks on the edge of Sebastian's feelings.

There are some things he definitely won't talk about though, and he's not sure if he ever will.

Any more details about the night Andy died, or the funeral, are completely off the table. In his nightmares, he can still see the ashen faces of his in-laws as he insisted they take the urn. He'd never been able to tell them that having it in his apartment would have made him want to leap from his window or into the path of a train.

He never talks about the wedding and he refuses to show Blaine any photos of Andy's face. He can tell Blaine is curious because he was once asked to describe what Andrew looked like and what it was that made Sebastian so interested in him. Sebastian had shook his head and asked for his silence to be respected, and Blaine kissed his cheek and promised that it was. Recalling Andy's face always led to him remembering that final night, of seeing things no one should ever have to see of someone they loved so much. He can't describe Andy's face without seeing  _that_  face too.

Blaine never pushes him or asks why he won't respond to some of the questions. If Sebastian pauses too long or stutters over an answer, Blaine changes the subject with a different question or a memory of his own. The exchange of information isn't as simple as when he met Andy, but Sebastian wasn't as broken then.

The week before Thanksgiving, like every year before it, Sebastian draws into a mode of complete isolation. His thesis supervisor and a couple of other class professors give him extensions and leeway to grieve. His boss from hell gives him the fortnight off with full pay. His mom calls, several times, but he lets it go to voicemail.

By the time the week of Thanksgiving is upon them, Sebastian stops trying to leave his apartment so Blaine comes to him. It doesn't matter how long Blaine's days might have been, he's there every night without fail. He cooks dinner and Sebastian numbly, automatically, helps clean up. Blaine holds him in bed and sings him to sleep. Sebastian's vaguely aware that Blaine got the week off and he joins Sebastian in his self-imposed exile. There isn't even the faintest hint of a protest on his lips.

Without a doubt, it's the worst week on Sebastian's calendar. It's worse than the anti-joy of every New Year or the anniversary of moving in together. It's worse than the day he met Andy or the anniversary of their marriage. He thinks it's because Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks for the family you have and he knows everyone gathers to reminisce, to catch up, to laugh and be surrounded by loved ones, and he's just reminded of all that he's lost.

The nightmares return that week.

During the year, he might dream bits and pieces but the week of Thanksgiving it all comes back in vivid detail. He relives the crash over and over, repeatedly waking Blaine with his thrashing and screaming and sobbing. Every time he rattles awake, Blaine is holding him close and tight, hushing him and stroking his hair and singing whatever song can be conjured first. It's the singing that pulls Sebastian away from the panic attacks but he doesn't know how to tell Blaine that. It soothes him back to sleep but then the nightmarish process repeats over and over and he can tell the interrupted sleep pattern is having an effect on Blaine too. The guilt leaves him feeling nauseous but his mind won't give him anything more pleasant to dream about.

Sebastian shuts down further on Thursday. He doesn't speak for the day. He remains curled in bed with the blankets to his chin and a pillow against his chest. Blaine spoons around him, hands never straying far, until he murmurs he's going to make dinner. Sebastian doesn't say he has no appetite. He dreads what he'll find on the table when it's done.

To his credit, Blaine makes a dinner that is carefully put together, as thoroughly normal as any of the other meals he's made in previous days. To Sebastian's eyes, there's nothing special about it, nothing that screams a Thanksgiving feast, and Sebastian lacks the words to express himself when he sees it. He squeezes Blaine's hand in thanks and Blaine gives him an understanding smile and presses his nose into Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian doesn't eat much, the sick churning in his stomach making it impossible to consume anything, but Blaine assures him that it's okay and stores the leftovers in the fridge before leading Sebastian back to bed.

Blaine has a shower and it leaves Sebastian alone with his thoughts for too many minutes. The memories of the crash flood his mind after the amount of nightmares he's had. He doesn't realise he's curled into a ball, his body shaking and his breathing stabbing out of him as he recalls screams and tyre screeches and headlights coming at him from every direction inside his head, until Blaine's singing draws his focus and he realises he's tucked into safe, strong arms again.

He's not sure when Blaine got out of the shower.

They lay facing each other that night, a lamp in the corner left on. Blaine thinks the light might help if he falls asleep and wakes up in a panic, trying to thrash free of the haunting memories in the dark.

But he doesn't sleep.

Neither of them do.

His limbs tremble in Blaine's hold which is so firm and tight but he can't stop the chill that seems to have settled in the pit of his stomach. Blaine constantly adjusts the blankets, even getting up to pull another one from his cupboards at one stage, but it's not because the air of the apartment is cold – it's because Sebastian can't stop reliving the crash. Staring into Blaine's hazel eyes helps, it keeps him from closing his eyes and seeing it all in too much detail, but the memories are still there, still flickering on constant replay just behind his eyes.

When morning starts to lighten the room and he's still shivering, Blaine seems to make a decision.

"I want to get you into the bath."

Sebastian doesn't really understand the words. His ability to comprehend things is distorted but he allows Blaine to hold his hand and pull him from the bed. His teeth chatter as he shuffles after the shorter male and Blaine helps him sit on the toilet seat before he turns on the water.

As the tub fills Blaine strips out of his sweatpants and hoodie, folding them neatly onto the bathroom sink. He stands in his boxer-briefs and an undershirt and it says a lot for Sebastian's state that he doesn't even care about trying to admire the areas of exposed skin he'd fantasised about on many nights as a teenager.

"Will you let me help you out of your clothes?"

Blaine bends to hover in Sebastian's line of vision, but he barely sees Blaine. His shoulders quake, his lower lip quivers, and his hands are wobbling so badly that he'd slosh a cup of coffee all over himself right now.

"Seb?" Blaine touches his cheek and Sebastian tries to make himself focus. He isn't sure what the question was so he nods his agreement to whatever it is Blaine wanted.

Blaine's guidance is what leads to raising his arms for the removal of his t-shirt and standing so that his cotton pyjama pants can be lowered to pool at his ankles. The tub is filled and Blaine folds the clothing to rest on top of his, leaving Sebastian in his briefs. Sebastian feels exposed and vulnerable, the scars from the crash evident on his skin, but he's too lost in his memories to really register it and he's left blindly trusting Blaine to know what to do.

Blaine helps him step into the tub and the water is warm, bordering on too warm, but he doesn't speak, doesn't make a sound, as he's encouraged to sit. Blaine scoots behind him, his legs surrounding Sebastian's body, coaxing his head to lean back against his shoulder. The warmth of the water covers them both and it ripples with Sebastian's unstoppable shaking.

Blaine's arms wrap around him, his hands resting against Sebastian's stomach but unmoving. There's nothing sexual about this despite their lack of clothes. Sebastian can feel his forehead getting slick with sweat from the heat of the bath, but he can also feel that his limbs aren't shaking beyond his control so much anymore. Blaine's cheek is pressed against the side of his head, a soft hum of another tune he doesn't recognise filtering into his ear.

The water is lukewarm before Blaine speaks, his right arm spanned across Sebastian's chest to rest his hand over his heart. "How do you feel?"

It's such a cliché psychologist question that Sebastian nearly laughs, but he's much too tired to do that. "Better," he croaks, although he's not sure it's the truth. The shaking has stopped but he still feels hollow inside. He suspects Blaine knows anyway.

"Do you want to eat something? Or should we go back to the bed?"

The fact Sebastian has to make a decision overwhelms him and his silence as the internal battle rages seems to alert Blaine to a problem.

"Bed, then. We'll eat later."

Sebastian nods and Blaine kisses his temple before releasing him to guide him back to standing. The air of the bathroom feels cool on his damp skin, but Blaine dries him quickly and thoroughly and returns with a dry pair of underwear for Sebastian to change into.

"I'll leave your clothes on the sink. I'll be in the bedroom and change into dry things. If you need something, knock on the bathroom door and I'll be right in. Okay?"

Sebastian processes the words slowly. When he comprehends what he has to do, he nods. Blaine leaves Sebastian's clothes behind and presses the door shut.

It takes Sebastian longer than it should to pull off his briefs, dry the skin Blaine hadn't dared touch, and dress himself. He feels like a dysfunctional robot, an incapable child, but there's still some of that stubbornness simmering below the surface that makes him determined to do something as basic as put his goddamn clothes on without help.

By the time he exits the bathroom, Blaine is dressed in sweats and a t-shirt that he'd left behind in one of Sebastian's drawers a couple of weeks ago and sits on the edge of the mattress. He stands when Sebastian enters and threads their fingers together, leading him back to the bed.

With Blaine stroking his hair and humming again, despite how much he's afraid to close his eyes, Sebastian is powerless to do anything but give into the fatigue.

* * *

When he wakes, it's dark outside the window and Blaine is snoring softly behind him. An arm is slung over his waist and he can feel the lines of Blaine's body against his back. He doesn't even realise he didn't have a nightmare about the crash until Blaine nuzzles his head against Sebastian's and his lips tickle the back of his neck.

It's about the same time as Blaine mumbles Sebastian's name in his sleep, something which sounds more like he's having a dream than an acknowledgement that he's awake, that Sebastian realises how entangled Blaine has become in his life. He relies on Blaine, he  _trusts_  him – maybe not as much as Andy, maybe never as much as Andy – but Blaine has closed the gaping wound around his heart into something less noticeable. It's taken a lot of effort to ease into Sebastian's life and it was so gentle, so effortless, that Sebastian hadn't even realised it had happened.

He can see the faint silver of the ring in the dark and spins it around his finger with his thumb. He's worn it for an extra six years now. It's not that he was holding onto a ghost, or a sliver of hope that Andy hadn't really died and would turn up on his doorstep with a bunch of brightly coloured flowers "just because" again. It's more that he'd never been able to accept Andy was truly gone and never believed he could open himself up to another person. The ring meant people kept their distance because they assumed he was married. The ring was a good excuse to avoid a pointless, heartless hook-up. The ring reminded him of how he had willingly tied his life to someone after twenty years of scoffing at relationships. The ring reminded him he was capable of loving, although he wasn't sure he'd ever feel that way again.

He can't bring himself to remove it, and he doesn't think Blaine's grip would allow him enough wiggle room to take it off and place it on the bedside table anyway, but he starts to realise that he  _could_  be okay with taking it off. It's not a betrayal to move on after Andy's death. He knows that if he had died, he would have wanted Andy to heal and find happiness again. He knew Andy well enough to know that Andy would have wanted the exact same thing for him.

Instead of the anxiety of moving on without his partner, he faces a new fear.

He's terrified that Blaine sees him, has only ever seen him and  _will_  only ever see him, as a friend and nothing more.

* * *

They never talk about the fortnight around Thanksgiving.

Sebastian squeezes Blaine's hand in thanks and Blaine squeezes back with a small smile to acknowledge it. The days kaleidoscope together and at some point, Sebastian rings his mom and assures her he's still alive, that he's doing okay. He knows his mother always frets about him "doing something stupid" around this time of year. He can't blame her. He's definitely thought about it in the past but this year he's okay. And he tells her that. He tells her that he has good days and bad days, but he truly believes he  _is_  doing okay now.

He still sees Blaine almost every day, and on the days that he can't, they text whenever possible and then talk on the phone late into the night. It's like high school all over again, except this time he knows Blaine doesn't feel guilty because Hummel is on his case about it. He listens to the sounds of Blaine's breathing over the phone when the male falls asleep without meaning to, letting it soothe Sebastian until he inevitably hangs up and wraps around a pillow to sleep, inhaling the faint scent of raspberry, coffee, vanilla and cinnamon that is embedded in the fabric.

At some point on one of those nights that Blaine doesn't stay over, he realises he's been imagining the pillow is  _Blaine_  in his arms rather than Andy's chest. He spends an hour or two crying, grieving again for a loss that always seems to feel raw when he's alone, and he barely speaks when Blaine makes his late call before they sleep.

"I should be there," Blaine murmurs and Sebastian knows Blaine feels guilty.

"I'm a big boy, Blaine."

"Big boys can still be held at night."

Blaine insists on staying with Sebastian over Christmas, although Sebastian  _knows_  Blaine's parents aren't impressed by the news he won't be coming home. He'd heard Blaine trying to pacify his mother or his father, and one time an argument with Cooper that led to Blaine saying, "How many Christmases have  _you_  not gone home, Coop?" before he ends the call and switches the phone off with a growl.

Sebastian doesn't say he's glad he won't be alone over the break – he hasn't gone home to his parents for any major holiday since the accident – but he knows Blaine can tell.

It's a quiet Christmas, but it's nicer that way. They watch cheesy Christmas movies and drink eggnog and Blaine even convinces him to get a tacky fake tree to put in the corner of his living room. He wakes up one morning to find Blaine surrounded by tinsel and baubles and strings of multi-coloured lights. Sebastian has no idea where any of it came from but the tip of Blaine's tongue is poking out of his lips in concentration while he decorates the tree and it's too adorable to interrupt. He hides a private smile and silently retreats towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

He wonders if they're becoming too domestic, if Blaine has infiltrated the secret pockets of his life and they've fallen into a relationship neither of them is really able, or willing, to define. It's like high school, where he'd flirt with Blaine and, as far as he was concerned, Blaine would flirt back. They were more than friends but they couldn't have been more because Blaine was already taken.

It sort of feels like that again. Blaine is more than a friend – he can't imagine letting any other friend, gay or straight, male or female, hold him the way Blaine does – and yet there's nothing  _sexual_  about any of it. Maybe it's because there's an easy familiarity of being around each other but Sebastian isn't sure what that means they are.

Blaine's arms wrap around him from behind while Sebastian watches the pancakes sizzle in the pan. He can feel Blaine's nose nuzzle into his shoulder blades, a mutter of "Good morning" into his skin, before Blaine moves away to put on a fresh pot of coffee.

He just wishes he understood what it meant to have such a familiar exchange.

They move through Christmas, exchanging gifts on Christmas morning. Blaine is delighted by the ridiculously large adolescent psychology texts and a variety of piano music books. Sebastian hugs the scrapbook Blaine made to his chest, the various high school photos and photos Blaine has taken over the past months aweing him. He's afraid he'll let it go and it will slide like sand through his fingers. He isn't sure what to say and his eyes are shiny and red-rimmed when Blaine glances across at him because he's been silent for so long. Blaine squeezes his hand and kisses his forehead and again Sebastian wonders what they are.

The break means Sebastian has no classes, assignments, or work. The schools are shut so Blaine has a lot of time as well. Sometimes they venture out for walks through the cold, holding hands – although their fingers aren't entwined – and going places. Sebastian takes Blaine to the Museum of Modern Art, pointing out artists he likes and others that Andy did. Blaine's artwork taste is much more expressive, although Sebastian is hardly surprised. Blaine has always been bubblier than Sebastian, regardless of how "out there" Sebastian might once have been.

In response, Blaine takes Sebastian to a philharmonic orchestra performance at the Lincoln Center and Sebastian spends far too much time watching Blaine. The male has his eyes closed – so Sebastian doesn't get caught staring – but he's fascinated by the way Blaine's fingers flick along to the music like the conductor. He wonders again why Blaine never went into something with music but he knows Blaine is incredibly passionate about working with the youth of the city.

The approach of New Year starts to make Sebastian hurt again, but it's less than previous years. Blaine has already promised a quiet night in and Sebastian doesn't protest. Blaine always knows what he needs better than he knows himself. He definitely knows it before Sebastian does.

Midnight comes and goes, and Sebastian tries to hide the tears that spill down his cheeks as he watches the ball drop and the subsequent celebrations in Times Square on TV. Of course Blaine realises and wipes them away, switching off the television and getting Sebastian to focus on him until the pain recedes.

"Let's go to bed," Blaine suggests, and Sebastian nods. He squeezes Blaine's hand and tilts his head towards the bathroom and Blaine lets him go, promising he'll be in the bedroom when Sebastian is finished.

Sebastian stares at himself in the mirror for a while, noting that he desperately needs a haircut but otherwise… Otherwise, he's pretty sure he looks a little less gaunt than he did in the summer. His eyes are a bit more green with life. His cheeks have a dusting of colour because he hasn't been told he's too pale in a while. The reflection gazing at him doesn't make him want to punch the glass for the first time in years.

His attention lowers to where his hands grip the sink, and the sparkle of the small diamond of his ring catches his eye. He's been thinking about the ring since Thanksgiving, keeping it on for security rather than because he still feels like he promised his entire life to Andy. Their marriage had only been brief, a few amazing months, but he'd been in a relationship with Andy for nearly two solid years at the time of his death and it was... It had been a sudden and shocking loss, a horrific accident that had broken his bones and haunted his mind. The images of Andy in the mangled wreck of the car, the sound of the blaring horn, his blood-soaked hair...

He had many good memories of Andy but sometimes he couldn't see past the final image he had.

Tears build in his eyes and his breathing shortens. He can feel himself shaking and he forces a breath past his lips and looks down at the ring again, trying to use the memories of their wedding to distract him from the accident. He can imagine Andy's radiant smile, the smell of white roses around them, the quiet hush of their families and friends watching. He can feel Andy's hands in his, telling him that it's okay and reminding him to stay calm.

It's the sort of moment he needs to make his decision final.

His heart flutters in his chest as he turns the ring on his finger and then drags it off. There's a sharp tan line around his finger which reinforces how he's never removed, not once. He's never removed it for a shower or a bath or cleaning the apartment, since Andy put it on at their wedding.

A tear slides down his cheek when he places it on the bathroom counter. He's spent three times as many years grieving, and not grieving, for Andy than they were together. How many years is he going to let the ghosts sit on his shoulders? How many years is he going to ignore the possibility of new happiness? What if clinging to Andy meant he eventually lost Blaine?

He snaps off the lights and leaves the bathroom before he can second-guess his decision. He'd accepted Andy entering his life with a New Year's kiss and now he was starting to accept Andy had exited his life on New Year's. It's beautiful, in its own way, although his heart is twisting into knots and every step into the bedroom makes him want to turn and run back, forcing the ring onto his finger again because he feels so empty without it.

But…

It doesn't feel wrong to take it off and allow himself to move on. It's been a safety net and he doesn't want that anymore. He trusts Blaine to stay with him. He trusts Blaine to help him.

Blaine's turned down the bed covers when he enters the bedroom and he slides into the male's embrace. The lights are off so Blaine can't see that the ring is gone and it offers a small ounce of relief to Sebastian because he's not sure he has the words to say what he did. Removing the ring is symbolic but it weighs on his tongue.

They fall asleep like so many other nights, arms and legs tangled together and Blaine's soft humming calming him to the point of dreamless slumber.

* * *

He stirs awake midmorning, the winter sun glowing behind the curtains. There are no arms around his body and when he rolls over, the side of the bed Blaine had been on last night – the side of the bed Sebastian used to occupy but can't bring himself to because that means Blaine is on the side Andy used to be on – is completely cold.

He feels a surge of panic and stumbles out of bed into the living room. Blaine isn't there, and when he goes to the kitchen, Blaine isn't there either. There's no note. There wasn't any reason for him to leave.

He races to the bathroom but it's empty. The ring on the counter mocks him and denial floods his system. Blaine wouldn't just leave… Blaine wouldn't just…

But when Sebastian sees that Blaine's shoes, coat and scarf are gone, he starts fearing the worst. He's alone in his apartment and there's no note. He doesn't know when Blaine left. He doesn't know why Blaine left. The suspicion that grows in his chest threatens to strangle him.

His knees buckle and sobs are already rattling past his lips before he's even curled into a ball.

What he's crying for, what he's lost, he can't even name.

* * *

Blaine returns late in the evening. The knock at the door is soft and Sebastian's pretty sure his eyes must be swollen when he answers it because Blaine's mouth turns down.

But Sebastian also sees that Blaine's eyes are red too and he doesn't think the frigid temperatures outside are to blame.

He leaves the door ajar and turns away, leaving Blaine to make the decision whether to enter or not. It hurts too much to see him, to have spent the day lost in his thoughts and his memories. He hasn't showered. He hasn't eaten. Until the knock on the door, Sebastian hadn't been able to move from the spot on his bedroom floor that he'd collapsed to earlier.

He falls onto the couch and Blaine's footsteps are quiet after he removes his shoes. The other male sits on the coffee table, clearing away a couple of magazines so he can sit opposite Sebastian. Sebastian can see hands reaching for him from the edge of his vision but they freeze and retreat into Blaine's lap, folding together as if he's unsure about what to do with them for the first time ever.

"I'm sorry I left this morning without waking you or leaving a note," Blaine says, and Sebastian realises Blaine apologises for a lot of things. He wonders if that was a problem with Hummel, if maybe Blaine's desperate need to repair their never-going-to-work relationship was part of what drove them further and further apart.

Sebastian doesn't nod, or shrug, or look up, or even acknowledge that Blaine's spoken. He hears the shakiness of Blaine's exhale that makes him think Blaine is about to start crying.

"I…spent the day with Kurt," Blaine admits, so slow that caution is layered in every word. Sebastian scowls before he can stop himself.

Sebastian's halfway to his feet, because he doesn't need to hear that  _Blaine_  met up with his  _ex_ , the one person Sebastian can't stand and thought Blaine had cut out of his life years ago, when Blaine's hands touch his thighs and push him onto the couch.

Sebastian's not impressed with being forced to do something. He's pretty sure Blaine knows that.

"You took off your ring."

There's no surprise. It's a blunt observation, a neutral tone that makes it clear Blaine hadn't just seen his empty hand. Sebastian continues to be silent. He has nothing to say. He's pretty sure if he tries to say anything, he'll just end up crying again.

"You took off your ring, Seb. I saw it on the counter this morning when I went to the toilet and I got scared and I ran and I'm sorry."

Sebastian wants to look up at Blaine's face, wants to demand answers that he's not sure Blaine is willing to give, but he's stubborn and defensive and completely and utterly vulnerable. Maybe he'll say something and shatter into pieces that he'll never be able to repair. Maybe he'll say something and drive Blaine away from him.

Blaine is quiet for a while. His knees press against Sebastian's. It's the only point of contact between them and Sebastian is reminded of how much he hates Blaine sitting on his coffee table so his face can be seen. He deliberately lowers his head further so he's looking down at his lap.

"I went to Kurt because I needed to talk to someone who  _once_  knew me better than anyone else," Blaine explains, his words betraying his uncertainty. "We don't talk much. We almost never see each other anymore, but he's very good at picking out what's important among all my ramblings and piecing together a new logic. Maybe it's part of why I've never let him go because sometimes he offers clarity and I'm afraid I… I'll run my mouth and screw up and upset you. And I couldn't live with myself if I did that."

Sebastian's fingers have clenched. Even now he  _hates_  Hummel and he's jealous that Blaine ran to  _Hummel_  to work through the mess in his head. Why couldn't Blaine have waited until Sebastian woke up so  _they_  could talk about whatever it is that freaked Blaine out so much that he fled? Why didn't Blaine trust Sebastian to listen to the ramblings? He has no right to feel this way – they aren't anything in particular – but feelings don't have to make sense.

"Why did you remove your ring, Sebastian?"

Sebastian maintains his silence. He's still hurt, and mad, and jealous, and upset, and he's spent the day crying because he thought Blaine had walked out of his life once and for all. He thought his biggest fear for  _months_  had come true and now he feels like shit for doubting Blaine's promise to always be there for him.

Blaine sighs and Sebastian can hear him running his fingers through his hair. He knows that means Blaine's frustrated and it feels like he should pat himself on the back for being able to rile someone up without saying a word.

"Kurt thinks you removed your ring because you're finally letting go, because you no longer feel like you're betraying Andy's mem-"

"You told  _Hummel_?" The words snap out of him, harsh and abrupt. He's looking into Blaine's eyes before he quite registers that he's raised his head. There are tracks of tears down Blaine's cheeks that Sebastian hadn't realised were shed, but his temper, his protectiveness over his most treasured relationship, means that any attempt at comforting Blaine is non-existent. He wants to throw another water glass at the wall just to shatter something before he shatters himself.

Blaine shakes his head. "No, no, no! I told him I was struggling with helping an older client. It was a person who had once been married and lost their partner but they'd kept their ring on," Blaine explains, biting his lower lip. Sebastian can see the fear in Blaine's expression. "I didn't give names or details of how or when or  _anything_. Using Andy's name is my words, not his. He doesn't know it was  _you_ , Sebastian. I promise. I would  _never_  tell him such personal details about you."

Sebastian still feels furious that Hummel knows  _anything_  about him, even in an abstract sense, because Andrew is so intensely, incredibly private, but maybe Blaine had concealed enough of the secrets. It pacifies him enough to deflate his temper and he looks at his lap again.

"It took Kurt a long time to remove the engagement ring I gave him," Blaine says, switching topics like he often does to distract Sebastian away from the things he hates feeling. "He kept thinking that we had repaired things so many times before that we could repair things again. It took him months until he realised I was serious about the break-up, and even longer before he removed the ring. Like me, he didn't get into many lasting relationships for a while because he was stuck with the thoughts of an ended relationship he'd once believed would last him the rest of his life."

Some of Sebastian's fury abates, but he hates that what Blaine describes is so similar to how he's felt for years. He doesn't like thinking he has anything in common with Hummel.

"He finally removed the ring when he'd accepted he could love again, when he was willing to try to meet others. He called me the day he did it, actually. We hadn't spoken in months but he asked if I would give him my blessing to take it off, and I gave it to him because I couldn't hate him for it and wished him the best. I know he was crying and it was several months before we talked again, but it's a conversation I remember because he tried to explain what it was like to let go, to allow himself a chance at happiness again."

Sebastian hears Blaine's unsteady breathing and tries not to twitch when one of Blaine's hands moves to rest against his knee.

"So that's why he thinks my 'mystery client' might be ready and took off his ring. He said he couldn't imagine what the client would be going through, because I'm still here and I… I know Andy isn't but he gave me more perspective when my thoughts were a mess because I wasn't sure if you'd be able, or willing, to explain it to me." Blaine pauses, hesitation threading between each heartbeat. "I think if you had the words, you would have told me what you'd done when you came to bed last night rather than pretending everything was normal."

Sebastian's resentment melts when he realises Blaine had contacted Hummel for reasons that were…acceptable. He's not happy about it, but it's sort of another instance where Blaine knew Sebastian better than he knows himself. Rather than try to push Sebastian into talking, he sought out someone who could help him understand his reasons, offering Blaine knowledge or insight into what to do to help when he returned. He can't really begrudge Blaine that, even if it is Hummel. He understood the value in external, neutral perspectives.

"I… I'm not… I'm not assuming  _anything_  about…what…w-we have-" Sebastian notes the new wobble in Blaine's voice but doesn't comment on it. "-but Kurt helped me gain some ideas because I've always been a little…oblivious about my feelings."

Sebastian recalls the stories of how much Blaine used to throw himself at Hummel at Dalton, and how Hummel threw himself back, and yet Blaine was still so completely innocent to any and all advances that Sebastian made towards him. It was that naivety which had drawn him to Blaine in the first place, the purity that made him blush so easily underlined by a maturity Sebastian had failed to fathom at the time. It wasn't until after the slushie incident, when Sebastian heard bits and pieces about what had brought Blaine to Dalton in the first place, that he'd realised Blaine was far from the foolish teenager he'd assumed him to be.

It had also made him feel so much worse that he'd been viewed like one of those bullies at Blaine's old school.

There's a deep breath and Blaine's hand moves off Sebastian's knee to linger against the back of his fidgeting hands. "I realised you make me happy, Seb. You give me a purpose to my days and nights. I realised I like holding you, and I like being held by you."

Sebastian bites down on the hint of a smile because he likes that too, despite never being someone who saw the value in being little spoon. Blaine's in full 'speech' mode and he can hear the slight waver to his voice as he continues.

"I realised I like watching silly Christmas movies with you. I like singing you to sleep. I like soothing away your nightmares. And I like the tousled look to your hair when you wander into the kitchen and get a cup of coffee before you even acknowledge that I'm sitting at the kitchen table smiling at you."

Sebastian can feel the thump of his heart slowly increasing in his chest, a twisting in his stomach as he digests the words. There's a definite ringing in his ears which sounds like an odd mixture of buzzing bees and his heartbeat and a high-pitched whine and- This reminds him of the speech he'd heard Blaine gave Hummel. He refuses to believe he's getting one of  _those_  Blaine Anderson speeches because he's not sure he's prepared for his heart to leap from his chest and tap-dance out the door.

"I like it when you smile,  _truly_  smile, and I like it when you hold my hand because you're always so warm."

It's true. Blaine's hands and feet were usually freezing. Three pairs of socks and two blankets hadn't been enough last week.

"I like having texts from you when I finish a session with a client and I like that you gave me a drawer in your bedroom to store a few of my things. I like that you called me when you were drunk because you allowed yourself to need me. I like that you trusted me with the story of what happened because I know how incredibly hard that must have been. And I like that you are one of the strongest, most beautifully imperfect people I know."

Sebastian wants to scrunch his nose and disagree because he's not beautifully imperfect, he's  _flawless_ , but that's too much like what he would have said and done in high school, arguing over semantics when he knows it isn't true. He's completely flawed now. It's impossible not to be.

Blaine's other hand joins his first, wrapping around Sebastian's to stop them fidgeting. It's cooler than Sebastian's but he can also feel the faint trembles.

"And I like that you've become my best friend, the one I want to share every detail of my day with. I like that you always listen to me, even when I know you've had a really long day, and I know I'm actually being  _heard_. I like that I'm not afraid to hug you or reach for you, and I like that I know you watch me when I'm sleeping or we're watching television but you think I don't know. Because I  _do_."

Sebastian feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but keeps quiet. He's trying to grapple with everything Blaine is saying. Blaine is apparently putting his heart on the line like Sebastian has seen so many times before, waiting for it – expecting it – to be trampled. Sebastian thinks maybe his breathing has shortened because it's the only explanation he has for how dizzy he feels.

"I like that I can be here for you, and I like that you  _allow_  me to be here for you. And I…"

Blaine pauses, and Sebastian's fairly sure that anyone in a six block radius could hear how loudly his heart is beating, how every beat has an eternity between them where a whole lifetime could be lived.

"I don't know what taking off the ring means to you, and I know I shouldn't like that you've taken it off because I know how much Andy continues to mean to you, but I  _do_  like it because I… I like you, Sebastian."

Blaine's hands are definitely shaking worse than before, although he's not entirely sure that his own hands aren't shaking too.

"Somewhere along the way, I realised I wasn't just hanging around because I was determined to try to help you, but because I genuinely  _liked_  being in your company and wanting to be with you. I like being your friend, and I… I'm really sorry I took advantage of your attempt at friendship when we were both in school. I never realised what I was missing out on."

It stirs something in Sebastian's chest, that broken, sincere tone that pokes at the stillness that has locked every muscle into place since Blaine started talking. He allows his head to raise, his eyes finding that familiar golden colour that has always fascinated him. Blaine's cheeks are still shiny, his eyes still red, and Sebastian realises Blaine is a better silent crier than he ever realised. He wonders how many times Blaine had cried when Sebastian was asleep.

Blaine seems to have exhausted his reserve of words and he stares back at Sebastian, trying to read something that he's not sure there is to see. The look on Blaine's face isn't exactly hopeful, but neither is it crushed or resigned by Sebastian's lack of response. He just seems to be waiting, letting the words wrap about Sebastian's shoulders and imprint on his skin.

Sebastian doesn't have the words for a response. He's always been more physical than verbal. He couldn't confess to liking Andy, he had to kiss him among a sea of people cheering about the New Year. He couldn't admit to liking that they had moved in together, he had to take his time worshipping Andy's body beneath him until he knew his gratitude was clear. He could hardly get the words of his proposal out, but Andy had been patient and known what was happening when Sebastian had gone down on one knee. He had struggled around the words of his vows, but Andy's hands had been in his, steady and sure and squeezing to acknowledge that he understood all that Sebastian hadn't been able to say.

It's why, rather than say anything, he opens the ball of his hands to hold them out, palm up, to Blaine. It's an acknowledgement of everything the other male has said, and the opposite of a rejection. He's just too overwhelmed to put it into words because speaking it aloud will feel like betraying Andy. He never intended to say he felt anything for anyone else but his first boyfriend, his first partner, his first lover.

His  _husband_.

But he can't deny that what Blaine feels is how Sebastian is starting to feel, and he's finally allowing Blaine's tendency for tactility to be accepted.

There's one of those brilliant smiles that makes Sebastian's breath catch when Blaine sees the hands and his fingers move to lace between the gaps. He gives a little tug – he's not entirely sure his heart doesn't do a little tug in his chest too – and Blaine stands and sits on Sebastian's thighs, wrapping arms around his neck while his arms circle Blaine's waist. He shifts to rest easier against the back of the couch, keeping the smaller male wrapped in his arms when Blaine lowers his head to rest on Sebastian's shoulder.

They sit and hold each other for what could very well be hours. Sebastian's thighs start to ache but he wouldn't let Blaine go for the world. Just like Andy knew the meaning behind each touch, each gesture, that Sebastian made so does Blaine. Being held in Sebastian's lap repeats everything Blaine said but he doesn't have to utter a sound.

And he  _knows_  Blaine knows that.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  7,125  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

What they have, what they are, doesn't get defined but Sebastian realises it doesn't need to be. Blaine is giving him the time to heal without pressuring him into anything more than they had before. Their feelings have been expressed, Blaine's heart has been laid on the table, but life goes on, with texts and phone calls and lying together on the couch or in bed. They haven't kissed, there's nothing sexual about their touching, but he also thinks it's less tentative than it was. He suspects it's because Blaine knows he isn't going to shatter with the touch of a hand to his body.

They continue dancing around each other in the kitchen in the morning, Blaine making coffee and Sebastian making breakfast. Blaine still makes dinner and Sebastian still helps clean up. Nothing really changes, except that Sebastian's ring has been tucked into a small box in his wardrobe and  _maybe_ there's a subtle change in the way they interact. At first, Sebastian thinks he's imagining it, that he's just gotten comfortable with Blaine's gestures rather than uncertain about their implications. As days turn into a month and he realises it's Valentine's Day in a couple of weeks, he realises that no, Blaine  _does_  linger a little longer when kissing his forehead, or Blaine holds his hand for a few extra seconds than he used to, or he catches Blaine gazing at him more often – but only because Blaine catches Sebastian just as much.

When it's clear Blaine is spending more time at Sebastian's apartment than his own, he gets a new key cut and presses it into Blaine's palm. It's not quite permission to move in but it's an acknowledgement that they have something, that they  _are_  something, and their lives are more and more merged.

"Are you sure?" Blaine whispers as he turns the key over in his hands, his hazel eyes wide as he stares at Sebastian.

"You're always welcome here," he assures, feeling awkward when Blaine squeezes him into a hug.

He wonders if some of Blaine's changing behaviour is because the most ridiculously romantic day of the year is approaching. He knows enough about Blaine to know he's a hopeless romantic, and he's uncomfortable wondering what the other male might be planning. Valentine's Day had become something sacred to him and Andy, and it's his first one with someone new in his life. He wouldn't classify what he feels as love, but he can no longer pretend that it's merely friendship. His feelings for Blaine are more like a slow burn, a candle that has gradually turned into a flame. With Andy, it was a sudden inferno that captivated him completely.

When the dreaded day finally dawns, Blaine doesn't even acknowledge it. It's just like Thanksgiving with how easily Blaine ignores the day and Sebastian's anxieties which surround it. The morning is the same as any other and the kiss to Sebastian's cheek as Blaine leaves the apartment for work is no different. The texts throughout the day are the same, and he wonders if he's spent the last fortnight unnecessarily freaking out over a particular day on the calendar when he knows Blaine is intelligent enough to understand the difficulties that certain days hold for him.

He gets home and Blaine is already there and fussing over something in the kitchen. He goes to hug Blaine hello, when he notices the small vase of flowers in the centre of the kitchen table.

Two yellow roses are intertwined with three red, and a white.

He recalls something about Blaine giving Hummel yellow and red flowers once, and has  _just_  enough knowledge about flowers to know that yellow roses symbolise friendship and red roses symbolise love, but it's the white rose he gets stuck on.

Because there was a time he'd told Blaine about Andy's love for white roses when a movie had included them. He'd confessed the story of harassing florists for white roses when organising the funeral, despite them being out of season, because he knew Andy  _had_  to have white roses. It's the only thing he'd  _ever_  mentioned about the funeral because he tended to get too choked up.

The little vase of six flowers manages to capture their relationship without words. It shows the friendship they have, the unacknowledged feelings they share but are still figuring out or too scared to admit, and Blaine's silent acknowledgement that Andy will forever be a part of Sebastian's heart on important days.

Something in Sebastian simultaneously breaks and heals, and he realises there are tears in his eyes and on his cheeks when Blaine moves towards him, hands reaching for his face to wipe them away. He lets Blaine care for him, and when the tears are gone, when the hands are lowered from his skin, he cradles Blaine's face in his hands.

His fingers are long as they fit the curve of Blaine's jaw and his hands are pale against the tan skin that Sebastian will probably always be jealous of because all he does is redden to the point of burning in the sun. Blaine watches him, understanding the emotions that Sebastian can't process because he  _knows_  why the flowers led to the tears and Sebastian realises he actually might love Blaine for understanding him so well.

He stares into Blaine's eyes, his silence and the tremble in his fingertips conveying everything he can't say, before his gaze moves to Blaine's lips. He's thought about it for a while – not quite as much as when they were in high school – but he's known since Thanksgiving, when he realised he could take off his ring and start moving forward, that he could allow himself the pleasure of another again. He's spent hours memorising every tiny detail of Blaine's mouth and the pink of his tongue and the glimpses he gets of Blaine's teeth, and he realises that he's okay with how he feels.

He looks up to Blaine's eyes again, hoping his intention is clear. He's given an almost imperceptible nod, and leans in before he second-guesses himself further.

It's different to how Sebastian would have kissed Blaine in high school. In high school, it was all about the thrill of the chase, of the urge to  _have_  and  _possess_  and know that he had done something illicit to someone who swore he had a boyfriend that he really cared about. In high school, he was rough and needy, a teenager with something to prove and somewhere else to be.

It's nothing like that now.

It starts off soft, the barest hint of his lips touching Blaine's. He almost chokes on his inhalation because the last time he kissed anyone was Andy as they left his parents' house on Thanksgiving, as they linked hands for brief seconds on the walk to the car. Years of locking away his interest in intimacy, and many more years of desiring Blaine, surge through him and the pressure increases. His tongue traces Blaine's lips, finally having the opportunity to commit their fullness to his memory, and it makes the mouth beneath his open and it's like  _heaven_. His fingers shift to clutch the back of Blaine's neck, supporting his head so he can taste and claim and make Blaine whimper more than once. He feels Blaine's hands against his chest and waist, walking them backwards until the other man's thighs hit a cupboard and it gives him something to push Blaine against, because he's fairly sure he might break the shorter male in half with how much pressure he places on his lower spine. He keeps Blaine's feet on the floor, his mouth never straying more than half an inch away when he tries to catch his breath.

The kiss turns from gentle into demanding and back again, his breath ragged against Blaine's swollen lips as he presses their foreheads together and stares into dark golden eyes. It feels like he's been coaxed back to life. Blaine's lips have encouraged warmth into his heart and soul, leaving something buzzing under his skin. His world blooms again, with life and colour and sound and sensation and emotion. It's dazzling and dizzying and he breathes Blaine in, holding the man against him until the world rights itself. Something unfurls in his chest, something like hope, something like trust, something like believing in the possibility of moving on, and it leaves him with tears prickling his eyes.

It seems surreal to be here, to be alive, to have Blaine in his arms, to have Blaine kiss him back.

 _Willingly_.

They hold each other until Sebastian decides he wants more of Blaine's lips, more of his taste, more of his touch – he's not sure he's ever going to stop wanting now – and leans in for another kiss that might never end.

* * *

Kissing slowly unlocks gates Sebastian thought he'd sealed shut with concrete many years ago. They don't do anything more – it's still too early and he's still hesitating with opening himself up – but he quickly notices that Blaine gives a quick peck to his lips now rather than a chaste kiss to his cheek when they part in the mornings. Sometimes Blaine will randomly hum with happiness and press a kiss to Sebastian's arm surrounding him when they watch television. When he wraps his arms around Sebastian's waist when he makes breakfast, he can feel Blaine press his lips between his shoulder blades as he offers a morning cuddle. Blaine's natural tactility increases and changes but Sebastian doesn't mind. It's still slow, there's still no pressure, and there's still no discussion about either of their feelings.

It's the middle of April before he allows himself to go further.

They lay on the couch, a boring show forgotten. Blaine had rolled over in Sebastian's arms to talk about his day and Sebastian had listened, although he'd gotten distracted by the way Blaine's mouth moved part way through the spiel – just like he used to when they were teenagers. It seemed Blaine hadn't even noticed he was focusing somewhere else entirely because he makes a rather adorable squeaking noise when Sebastian can't hold back any longer and kisses him.

It starts like so many other kisses, gentle and tentative, Sebastian getting used to what he was doing again while Blaine gave him all the patience in the world to calm himself down. Blaine has an instinctive response to opening his mouth when Sebastian drags his tongue along his lower lip, and they easily get lost in the heat of it all. It's like he's drowning, but he never needs to fight for air. Blaine whimpers when Sebastian tugs at the curls spiralling loose at the nape of his neck before he supports it. Sebastian likes knowing he's not the only one who likes his hair and neck being touched.

This time though, he goes a step further. His hand wanders from Blaine's hair to the small of his back, pressing their hips together. He's not hard, and neither is Blaine, but it still makes Blaine's breathing hitch in the most delicious of ways. He leaves his hand there while the kissing continues, Sebastian allowing Blaine to take control of the kiss, enjoying Blaine's increasing confidence that nearly makes him moan, before he dares to move it lower and cups the pert ass he'd dreamed about touching as a schoolboy.

The groan is something so sweet to his ears, reminding him of when Blaine had been painfully twisted up in the armchair, only this time it's pleasure not pain and his fingers playfully squeeze against the denim-covered flesh again.

"Seb," Blaine gasps out as he pulls away, a hint of a warning in his single word. Sebastian knows he won't,  _can't_ , go further and he knows Blaine knows that too. It's not fair to tease, and he knows sometimes they kiss for so long that Blaine blushingly apologises and goes into the bathroom for a  _very_  long shower. He harbours no illusions about what happens although his heart is still trying to decide how he feels about it.

"Sorry," he mutters, though he's not really sorry at all. When Blaine huffs and rolls his eyes, he knows the lie doesn't slide past the other male either.

Blaine nimbly picks up the hand and settles it against the side of his ribcage, high near his armpit. It's a place where he can feel the way Blaine's heart is pounding in his chest in a rhythm that he suspects matches his own.

Satisfied that Sebastian isn't going to tease further and apparently still interested in kissing, Blaine leans in and kisses him again.

It's not as if Sebastian is going to protest.

* * *

They seem to grow a little more comfortable with exploring after that. There's still no nakedness, but the kisses  _definitely_  turn into making out and Sebastian is glad Blaine has a tendency to rush to the bathroom because it gives him the opportunity to calm his own racing hormones and interested dick down. Occasionally a hand slides under a shirt, teasing against bare skin. Sebastian manages to grip Blaine's ass a few times and one night he hovers above Blaine, pressing him into the bed as they kiss while Blaine draws aimless patterns against his back after his shirt had been discarded. Eventually he has to pull away and he's reminded of how it's like it was with Andy, waiting for the right time, going crazy waiting for it, and yet relishing in the slow pace and learning what made Blaine gasp and moan and squirm just from kissing his mouth and bestowing the lightest of touches to random spots on his body.

Spring turns into summer and Blaine spends a lot of his days at home reading adolescent psychology books while Sebastian finishes up one of his easiest years of school since the crash and increases how often he goes to his internship. Sometimes Blaine sees one of his young clients for coffee, but mostly he's there when Sebastian leaves and in a similar place when Sebastian returns. Blaine still has his own apartment, but Sebastian's pretty sure almost every item of clothing Blaine owns has migrated into his empty drawers.

He just doesn't want to ask Blaine to officially move in yet.

It's July and stiflingly hot when Sebastian gets home from work one Friday. It's one of those days that he hates having to wear a full suit and tie, because by the time he gets home his clothes are sticking to his skin. Blaine had turned on the AC because it's blessedly cool when he steps through the door. When he goes looking for Blaine, he finds him asleep on the couch. A book is splayed across his chest, pages that Blaine had been scribbling notes on scattered across the coffee table and floor. Sebastian can't help but smile fondly as he watches Blaine for a few minutes, before heading down the corridor for a cool shower and a plan to change into something more comfortable.

By the time he's removed the heat of the day from his body and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Blaine has woken and is sitting on the couch. The book that had been open across his chest has been closed, his sheets organised into a neat pile. It had taken a while for Blaine to understand why Sebastian was so meticulous about keeping things tidy, but now it seemed it was second-nature for him too.

"How was your day?" Blaine asks as Sebastian falls onto the couch, his legs hanging over the end so he can rest his head in Blaine's lap. Fingers automatically wind through Sebastian's damp hair like every other time he lays like this and the tension in his body begins to evaporate. He loves Blaine's hands in his hair.

"Too hot," he complains with a wrinkle of his nose, pouting at Blaine when the other man laughs. The inefficient AC in his office has been a constant gripe all summer.

Sebastian gazes up and Blaine gazes down and there's a smile on Blaine's lips that he can't totally discern. He thinks it's something like contentment. It's certainly how Sebastian feels in this familiar, comfortable and safe position. He'd never admit it, but it  _might_  be why he spends so much of his time with his head resting in Blaine's lap and not  _totally_  for the hair scratching like he'd have Blaine believe.

"Do you want me to start on dinner?"

Sebastian knows it's a ridiculous question because he's already seen that Blaine had started the preparation earlier and he's pretty sure tonight was leftovers anyway.

"Just wanna stay here for now," Sebastian mumbles, and Blaine's smile when he closes his eyes fills his chest with warmth.

The fingers continue stroking his hair and at some stage the television is switched on. The volume is low, and Sebastian vaguely registers some of the words but he sort of swims in and out of being able to pay attention. It's been a long week. It's been a hot week. And it's a Friday. He's allowed to rest his body for a little while. He's allowed to spend some time with his boyfriend's hands in his hair.

The thought shakes him awake and he nearly falls off the couch in his haste to stand and put distance between them. Blaine is sitting completely still, watching him with wide, calculating eyes. It's that stupid counsellor's stare, the one that sees through him and  _into_  him, and he hates it and Blaine knows it but it's also something Blaine can't really control anymore which maybe just makes Sebastian hate it more.

They've still never defined what they are, despite more than five months of kissing and gradually more making out. Their relationship had lulled into something easy, and the realisation that he could think of Blaine as his  _boyfriend_ , that he really does have deep feelings for Blaine, makes his hands start to shake by his sides.

Blaine almost immediately notices he's shaking because he's standing and pulling Sebastian into a tight hug without a word. Sebastian wants to fight it, but he can't – he never can – because Blaine's hugs are too often the only thing that holds him together. He breathes in the familiar scent of raspberries and coffee and vanilla and cinnamon, holds onto the soft cotton of one of Blaine's favourite t-shirts, and gradually the anxiety that had flooded him fades.

It's one of the few times Blaine pulls away first, his brow crinkled with concern as he eyes Sebastian's face. "I'll get started on dinner," he says, knowing how often he craves space after he feels panicky, and offers a gentle kiss to his cheek before he steps away.

Sebastian's mind is in too much turmoil to be emotionally numb, although he's definitely blind to the television when he lies back down on the couch. It doesn't feel like a betrayal of Andy anymore, and yet…

And yet he hadn't quite allowed himself to accept that what he had with Blaine was truly something that was a  _relationship_. It terrifies him, because he didn't think he'd ever let himself feel this way about anyone again, not after what had happened the first time, but it's been nearly a year since that chance sighting of Blaine across the street and Blaine  _had_  confessed to liking him on New Year's Day. What they had ran much deeper than merely 'friends', that had always been obvious – hell, Hummel had known and been threatened by it back in high school – and Sebastian had ignored acknowledging the way Blaine had healed the festering wound and filled in the hole that Andy's enormous loss had left behind in his heart and soul.

He  _loves_  Blaine. It's nothing like the enamoured infatuation he had in high school, when he thought Blaine's eyes were intriguing and his ass needed to be felt to check it was really that round and perky. It's not the enamoured infatuation he had in high school that made him sickeningly jealous of Hummel and throw the slushie that had hurt Blaine so badly. It's not the enamoured infatuation he had in high school that left him throwing up his breakfast in his dorm room toilet after everyone had left following Blaine's proposal to Hummel. It's not the enamoured infatuation Sebastian had painstakingly tried to give up because he knew that Blaine was moving forward with his relationship and completely ignoring, or being oblivious to, any feelings Sebastian had.

And yet…

And yet maybe it  _wasn't_  an enamoured infatuation back then but something deeper than he hadn't been prepared for. An infatuation didn't make someone so unreasonably jealous that they turned to violence. An infatuation didn't make someone physically sick after a marriage proposal. An infatuation didn't lead to that deep ache that had taken up residence in his heart for weeks afterwards when their text conversations stopped.

Maybe it wasn't an enamoured infatuation but something deeper, something he hadn't understood until Andy taught him what it was to  _love_.

Blaine calls him for dinner and he raises his fork to his mouth without really tasting anything. He can feel Blaine's gaze on him and in an attempt to soothe the male's worries, he reaches across the table and holds his hand. He feels rather than hears Blaine's breathing slow and though it becomes a bit of a challenge to eat with only one hand, Sebastian wouldn't have it any other way because that point of contact is the only thing holding him together and Blaine knows that too.

Blaine always knows everything.

They clean up without a word and watch a TV show that Sebastian doesn't see. At some point that could have been a commercial break for all he knew, Blaine switches it off and rolls over to watch him. It's still annoying to be scrutinised but he's gotten used to it now.

"What are you thinking about?"

Sebastian had been trying to figure out how he could explain it to Blaine for  _hours_. He thinks it's probably stupid that it's taken him  _this_  long to think of them as boyfriends. He's pretty sure it's a word Blaine has been thinking for months already but hadn't wanted to voice, probably because he was afraid Sebastian would have a similar reaction to the one he's just had.

But Sebastian's never been particularly good with using his words to try to explain his feelings.

He captures Blaine's lips instead, pouring everything he feels into the kiss and hoping Blaine can understand what he's trying to say. Blaine's breathing hitches when his hand slides under the cotton t-shirt and settles on the skin of small of his back just above the swell of his ass.

Apparently feeling emboldened, Blaine's hands grip at the front of Sebastian's t-shirt to drag him on top and the kiss barely breaks for a fraction of a second as they grasp at any part of the other that they can. His knees are bent into the cushions because the couch just isn't long enough for his body, but it doesn't really matter. There's a shift in the atmosphere around them and he knows Blaine understands what he couldn't explain.

They kiss until Blaine is practically vibrating beneath Sebastian's body and he has to stop to check that Blaine isn't going to rattle his skeleton out of his skin. Sebastian chases after his lips for something softer, but Blaine tilts his head away because his sharp and unsteady breaths make it clear he needs to pause for a moment.

"I should…um… Can you let me up for a shower?" Blaine murmurs, his cheeks flushed and his lips dark red. He can't meet Sebastian's eyes. He never can when he asks that question.

"No," Sebastian whispers, the first time he's ever refused. He leans in to kiss the spot below Blaine's earlobe that he once discovered by accident makes the male bite his lip. He's not disappointed when he pulls away, the white of Blaine's teeth a sharp contrast to the red of his mouth.

"Seb…" It's that same warning tone he uses when he thinks Sebastian is going to push himself beyond his intimacy comfort zone and end up freaking out, but it's the first time Sebastian is thoroughly willing to push beyond the intimacy comfort zone and maybe leave it the hell behind.

"Come to bed with me," he says, breathing the words warmly against Blaine's ear. The implications of what he means, what he wants, what he's allowing, is clear to the male who was so oblivious about his feelings that he went to his ex-fiancé for help. He watches with fascination as Blaine manages to shudder and still at the same time, meeting the dark honey eyes without any trace of fear or uncertainty.

There's a calculation taking place in Blaine's head because there's a line between his eyebrows he always gets when he starts thinking too hard. "Are you sure?"

Sebastian hadn't planned on Blaine being the one who started to worry about this while he'd struggled with the emotional mess in his head for the past few hours, so he nods without the slightest hint of hesitation. Blaine eyes him, scans him, before he pushes his lips up to meet Sebastian's again and grabs at his body to stand. They stumble towards the bedroom, discarding clothes along the way. Sebastian gets so distracted and heated that he finds a blank piece of wall near the bathroom door and pushes Blaine against it, sucking a mark to his neck that has Blaine whining near his ear and scratching at his back.

By the time they tumble into bed, there's only underwear between them and even that's too much. Blaine crawls backwards until his head is against the pillow and Sebastian moves to cover him, admiring the body beneath him with the tips of his fingers.

"Beautiful," he compliments, and Blaine's cheeks – already pink – flush red. He kisses down Blaine's neck, mouthing another mark into his skin, before he continues down. He thumbs at one nipple while licking a ring around the other, and Blaine's hands clench into his hair almost painfully. He kisses down the centre of his chest, sucks a mark to Blaine's hip, and bypasses where the bulge is trapped inside his tight boxer-briefs.

Blaine groans in protest, but the groan turns high-pitched and breathy when Sebastian kisses the inside of each thigh, biting and sucking another mark to flesh that doesn't see the sun.

Thoroughly satisfied, he shifts to look for Blaine's eyes, his chin near the hem of Blaine's underwear. It's obvious what he wants, even if Blaine didn't know him so well, and he receives the nod he's looking for.

He doesn't waste much time, hooking his fingers into the elastic and pulling down. Blaine's legs do the rest, kicking the fabric free and Sebastian just gazes at the way Blaine's length curves towards his stomach, flushed full and hard. He's filled with want for the first time in years. Everything this man does only seems to keep making it rise and he's taking Blaine into his mouth without any uncertainty.

Above him, Blaine curses and thrusts shallowly into his mouth. It takes him a minute to adjust – it  _has_  been a while although Sebastian has enough experience from his youth to remember what to do – and he gradually encourages Blaine's hips to roll into the heat of his mouth. He can't remember the way he used to stretch his lips around Andy anymore, the tricks he could do to draw a curse from his lips, but it doesn't matter. He's entranced by everything Blaine does, the half-gasped pleas and moans, the tremble in his inner thigh, until there are fingers pulling at his hair and he's forced to drag his mouth away. He tongues at the slit and the flare of the tip before letting go completely with a satisfied hum. He's waited a  _long_  time to have the opportunity to do that

"Kiss me," Blaine demands and Sebastian surges up to kiss his lips. Blaine doesn't seem fazed by the taste within Sebastian's mouth and he can't stop his grind into Blaine's thigh because his instincts are demanding friction.

Blaine presses briefer kisses to his lips before rearranging their limbs and rolling them over relatively smoothly. Sebastian's fingers skim over Blaine's nipples and he admires how the man's spine arches. He can feel Blaine's cock sliding against his inner thigh and it's taking a  _lot_ of willpower for Sebastian not to flip them over again and suck until Blaine is crying out his name.

Blaine mirrors Sebastian's actions from earlier, kissing his neck and sucking a mark between the line of three freckles. He knows it'll be there when he goes to work on Monday but he doesn't think he'll mind too much. He grunts and shivers when Blaine touches his nipples, hisses a complaint when his hipbone gets licked and the inside of his thighs gets marked, and rolls his hips up in encouragement when Blaine looks up at him to seek confirmation he can remove Sebastian's underwear.

Like Sebastian hasn't been one hundred percent committed to this whole experience since that first kiss on the couch or something. Like he didn't fantasise about this every night for months and months almost a decade ago.

Sometimes he wonders if Blaine is still as oblivious as ever.

The heat of Blaine's mouth on his cock feels like fucking  _heaven_  and it's only the hand on his hip that keeps him relatively still. He might have waited forever to taste Blaine but he's also waited a long time for those lips to suck him off. There's one hand clutching at Blaine's hair but there's another in his own to try using pinpricks of pain to stop himself coming too quick, a litany of soft curses and praise staining his lips as Blaine's tongue does things that make his brain short-circuit and his groin tighten dangerously.

Blaine finally pulls away and resumes kissing and licking his body, but it's not enough and he growls at the other male. To his annoyance, Blaine looks rather delighted by his reaction.

"Can I ride you?" Blaine asks, and Sebastian stills. He hadn't really thought about just how far they were going, just what he wanted in the short-term. He was following instincts, and needs, and desires, and cravings, and-

Blaine kisses him, short and soft, and it stops his anxious thoughts.

"Yes," he whispers, and Blaine promises he'll be right back. His hips sway as he leaves the bedroom, his cock hard and jutting between his legs. Sebastian is tempted to chase after him and pin him up against the wall, face first, because Blaine Anderson is just too tempting for his own good.

Blaine returns in a couple of minutes with a small bottle of lube and a foil square from God only knows where. He climbs back onto Sebastian's body, holding out the bottle expectantly.

There's a slight shake to his fingers as he accepts it, and Blaine leans in to kiss him again. It's slow and undemanding, and it helps Sebastian's nerves quieten.

He spreads the lube over his fingers and Blaine rises. He can't resist cupping Blaine's balls, rubbing his thumb against the smooth perineum, but Blaine's arched neck and stifled groan seem to indicate he doesn't mind in the least. He's gentle with the first finger, because he knows it's been a while since Blaine has been with anyone. Secretly, Sebastian thinks he needs just as much time to adjust to what he's doing as Blaine does.

Blaine's hips roll against his finger as he moves it inside before he makes a quiet plea for another. Sebastian is more than willing to oblige, adding extra lube and stretching another finger in. A moan fills the silence, and they each continue the push and pull for long minutes as Blaine adjusts. When he asks for a third finger, Sebastian is so hard he thinks the blood in his dick has been replaced with concrete. He strokes his fingers within Blaine's flesh, creating whimpers and shudders and the occasional curse, and when the condom wrapper is finally torn by Blaine, Sebastian nearly sobs with relief.

Blaine's fingers roll the latex down and he pours a generous amount of lube over the tip. He can feel its chill but it doesn't bother his erection too much because he's still too amped up about what he's going to do.

"You're sure?" Blaine asks as he encourages Sebastian's fingers out. Sebastian doesn't care at all when he wipes his fingers against the nearest sheet, his gaze fixed on Blaine's. He'll never want to wash these sheets again because they'll be stained with everything that's  _Blaine_  and it feels as though he should frame it and hang it on his wall until it's worth a fortune .

"Are  _you_?"

It's the nearest he's ever come to challenging Blaine like he used to in high school, a faint smirk curling his lips as he watches Blaine's mind evaluate everything all over again. He can see the grin that takes over half of Blaine's face when he realises he's being teased and settles himself into position when he accepts that Sebastian isn't afraid anymore.

That first breach, that first clench, is almost more than he can take. Blaine's determined expression twitches and Sebastian rubs his palms against the male's waist. He knows it has to hurt, even just a little bit, especially after so long. He'd bottomed for Andy a few times over the course of their relationship and remembers that first time when he'd been convinced Andy's dick was never going to fit.

But Blaine sinks down faster than he expects, his ass settling against Sebastian's thighs, his hands grasping at chest and shoulders, and all Sebastian can do is mutter a quiet, stunned, " _Fuck_."

It spurs Blaine into action, using his hands to give himself leverage up before moving down. Sebastian's hands on the smaller waist above him tighten and loosen as he feels Blaine adjust, squeezing and relaxing with remarkable control. It's too slow to do much but allow them to grow comfortable with each other, and Sebastian wonders if he needs to check himself into the asylum alongside the fortune teller because he's almost certainly going crazy.

He's fascinated by the way Blaine's expression changes as his hips roll, and the way he arches his neck with a pleasured gasp which reveal the hickeys that are blooming against his skin. He's fascinated by the way Blaine's stomach clenches and his breathing catches whenever Sebastian jolts his hips up. He's fascinated by how completely silent Blaine can be, seemingly lost in a trance as he drags himself back and forth.

It's when Sebastian realises that Blaine won't go any faster and he really  _will_  be checking into the asylum that his patience snaps. He adjusts Blaine's hands and rolls them easily, his cock slipping free and bumping against puckered skin. Blaine whines beneath him, his eyes hooded with arousal as he wraps his legs around Sebastian's waist and tries to raise his hips hopefully.

"How long have you thought about this?" he whispers, not sure why he decides to ask such a question right now. Blaine's eyes flutter in surprise.

"Since I first saw you singing  _Uptown Girl_ , touched your hand, and imagined your long legs wrapped around me," Blaine admits with a reddening pair of cheeks. This time, it's Sebastian who's surprised and he growls, pressing a kiss to Blaine's mouth as he shifts his hips and sinks back into the tight heat. Blaine's breath stutters out of him with a whimper.

"Did you ever jerk yourself off thinking about me back then?" he asks, slowing his hips to make sure he doesn't derail Blaine's thoughts too much and nosing at the marks on his neck with a strong sense of pride.

Blaine's face is flushed when Sebastian looks at him expectantly for an answer, but he realises he doesn't need one. The expression on Blaine's face is confirmation enough.

"I should have fought for you harder," Sebastian murmurs, partially to himself because maybe  _Blaine_  wasn't oblivious to his feelings. Maybe  _he_  was oblivious to Blaine's. He thinks of how many nights he spent alone in his bed with just his right hand for company, his mind filled with memories and imaginations of Blaine. Maybe there hadn't been a right time to say something but does that absolve the guilt for keeping his silence?

He runs one hand through Blaine's hair, the other holding the man high enough that the angle is better for his hips to roll forward, and leans down to brush a kiss to swollen lips.

"I used to think… After I broke up with Kurt… I thought if I returned to Dalton like Hunter wanted, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you," Blaine explains, avoiding Sebastian's stunned expression by shutting his eyes. His body is trembling apart in Sebastian's hands again and it starts to sink in just how precious the man beneath him is, just how much time he needs to spend worshipping the body that he'd fantasised about for so long. "But I… I thought about…so many things... It made me feel so guilty when I was with Kurt but… God, I knew you were interested in me and I always wondered…"

Sebastian  _almost_  frowns as he hovers above Blaine, a fingertip trailing over the man's cheek. He hates being balls deep in Blaine and Hummel  _still_  comes up. "But… Then why did you  _propose_  to him, for God's sake?"

Blaine laughs, breathy and almost sad as his eyes flutter open. "You never made a  _move_ , dumbass," he teases, cupping Sebastian's face to hold him steady. It makes Sebastian wants to smack himself for being such a foolish teenager. "Kurt called me after Sectionals and…opened the door again, I guess. I visited him at Christmas because his dad was sick and then the steroid scandal happened and I…" Blaine eyes drift away, a sigh of disappointment escaping his parted lips. "I didn't know how to trust the Warblers anymore and gravitated back towards New Directions. They all wanted me back with Kurt and it... We made  _sense_. I didn't have to worry about trusting him, he just had to worry about trusting me…"

Even though he doesn't want to admit it, he can understand Blaine's way of thinking. Even if he'd spoken up, if he'd made a determined move on Blaine, he's not sure it would have worked anyway. The window of time had been smaller after Hummel had called and the drug bombshell had been ticking away, waiting to explode. Maybe Blaine would have ended it when that happened.

If nothing else, Sebastian knows he wasn't prepared for, hadn't been capable of, loving someone then. He'd been obsessed with Blaine but Andy had taught him patience and respect, warmth and love, care and friendship. He needed Andy to be a mentor for developing his capacity to express emotion before he could offer anything to Blaine.

"And when you were with Hummel?"

Blaine gives him a cute, puzzled look. "What about it?"

"Were you still thinking about this?"

Blaine opens his mouth before pressing his lips together, so hard that they turn faintly white.

"Oh my God… You  _were_!" he exclaims, fully prepared to rub it into Hummel's smug face that they got engaged and Blaine still thought about  _him_. The revelation is beautiful for his ego and he kisses Blaine until the man loosens up and begins to respond. "Does it live up to your expectations?" he whispers, slowly rotating his hips in an attempt to tease an answer from him.

The line between Blaine's eyebrows reappears as he carefully considers the question. His hands press into Sebastian's shoulder blades, the nails scraping down the skin next to his spine that leaves him cursing the sensation which makes his dick twitch.

"More cursing and dirty talk," Blaine says finally, and Sebastian snorts a laugh and kisses him. He probably had done  _exactly_  that in high school.

"There'll be plenty of time for that," Sebastian promises, starting to pick up his pace of snapping his hips in and out. The time for conversation is over. He's learned so many secrets, so many more things than he could have imagined, and he's left in awe of what else this man could offer. Blaine fingers move to touch himself but Sebastian smacks his hand away and tugs it in time with his thrusts. There's a vein in Blaine's neck that he can see pulsing beneath the skin that Sebastian has an odd urge to bite down on.

"Oh God… O-Oh  _fuck_ , Seb…" Blaine pants, practically clawing at Sebastian's skin and it's clear from the shaking in his thighs that he's struggling to keep his legs wrapped around Sebastian's waist. The clench around his cock is getting tighter and tighter, making his need for quick thrusting difficult.

"Let go, Blaine. I've got you," he whispers, twisting his wrist, and something snaps within Blaine. He coats Sebastian's hand and his own stomach, thrusting into Sebastian's fist as his orgasm ravages him and he gasps Sebastian's name. The uncontrolled muscle spasms, the lingering image of Blaine's face dissolving into blissed pleasure, is what sends Sebastian over the edge, finally allowing himself to bite down on that pulsing vein as he falls apart. It makes Blaine curse loudly and he thinks it was totally worth it.

He covers Blaine's body with his own, wanting to claim every inch of his mouth with kisses as they each come down. Blaine's legs have loosened, the occasional muscle spasm making him twitch. He only disconnects their bodies when Blaine finally pushes tiredly at his shoulder, conceding to the oversensitivity, and removes and ties off the condom. He completely ignores Blaine's grimace as he uses the sheets to clean their bodies because trying to get up and find tissues right now is an effort he cannot be bothered making when he has a beautiful man in his bed.

He flops onto his back and pulls Blaine into his arms, holding him through the warm afterglow, drifting fingertips through soft curls. Blaine's head rests against his shoulder, drawing circles around the freckles littering his chest. The racing of their hearts takes a long time to slow, but he feels at peace. No words are needed as they touch with gentle, soothing reverence.

The sex seals that he's almost entirely Blaine's now, except for a piece that will always be Andy's.

* * *

_**~TBC~** _


	6. Chapter 6

 

* * *

 **Title:** Close To Nothing  
**Author:** an-alternate-world  
**Rating:**  M  
**Characters/Pairing:** Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson  
**Word Count:**  2,663  
**Summary:**  Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:**  Canonical and past character death.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with  _Glee_ , FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

Their relationship isn't quite as perfect as the one Sebastian and Andy had. It's easy for Blaine to test his temper and it's even easier for him to test Blaine's patience. Sebastian tends to snap before Blaine does because holding any amount of anger is difficult for a counsellor, but the arguments have a tendency to fizzle into heated glaring contests until Blaine flings his arms around Sebastian's neck and starts kissing him.

Sometimes Sebastian thinks Blaine challenges him just because he likes the make-up making-out.

In September, Blaine cancels the lease on the apartment he never stays at and moves his remaining things into Sebastian's space. Sebastian gets a noise complaint from one of his neighbours the next morning but not for a second does he regret the sound of Blaine screaming his name. Hell, he's already plotting ways to make it happen again.

They fall into new habits, like separate showers becoming joined ones. They probably waste more water with Sebastian's propensity to press Blaine into the wall and jerk him off, and then Blaine practically throws him against the tiled walls to sink to his knees – but Sebastian would be mad to complain about  _that_.

They get a new couch, because Sebastian is sick of being too short for his old one when he wants to settle in Blaine's lap or make out with Blaine on it. The new one is much longer – and causes a few problems fitting into the room – but it's absolutely perfect and there's a lot of nights they don't make it to the bedroom because Sebastian is too busy with his hand in Blaine's underwear. It's around the point that Blaine stains his cotton boxer-briefs that Sebastian scoops him up, carries him to the bed, and presses him open until Blaine is hard and coming a second time.

Blaine laughs and calls him insatiable one day when he bites at his neck and presses the outline of his dick against Blaine's ass when the other man is  _trying_  to focus on making dinner, except he knows it's not  _really_  a problem. Actually, Blaine has a tendency to fight fire with fire and grind his ass back, forcing Sebastian to retreat instead of bending him over the counter. Blaine's laughter always follows him out, audible over Sebastian's huffed breath of frustration.

One of his new favourite things becomes waking up before the alarm and, rather than watching Blaine sleep, he burrows under the sheets and takes the half-hard cock into his mouth. He loves feeling it harden, the way Blaine stirs awake and realises what's going on. It rarely takes him more than a few minutes to fill Sebastian's mouth once he's more awake, and the kiss he gets afterwards can outweigh the awe he feels watching Blaine's long eyelashes finally flutter open.

His ability to complete work at the internship improves. His boss nods with approval when he finishes all the additional work she heaps on him. One of his professors comments on his consistent submission of assignments on time. Sebastian feels like he's walking on an even higher cloud and the first thing he does when he gets home is kiss Blaine in thanks.

He doesn't need to drink that night to celebrate. He doesn't drink at all, actually. Blaine manages to convince him not to drink at business events and he realises, with a firm hand tucked into his own, no one cares that he's not consuming alcohol at the ridiculous functions they attend.

There's still a looming dark patch, and once again he's given a fortnight off when it rolls around. The nightmares aren't quite as bad as last year, but he still wakes up sobbing in Blaine's arms with a soft voice hushing his terror. It's a fortnight without sex, and Sebastian doesn't need to express his gratitude that Blaine respects it's a time of year that he's grieving for his lost husband and has absolutely no interest in it. It's certainly not meant as an insult to Blaine's very desirable body but he can tell his reasons are understood without a word of explanation spoken.

A Christmas tree takes residence in his living room again, slightly larger than last year. He helps Blaine decorate it this time. He's not sure why he bothers because Blaine removes whatever he's just draped and does it himself so that the multi-coloured lights reflect off the tinsel the right way or the balance of the tinsel is just right or the baubles are spaced evenly apart, but he can tell from the smile that Blaine likes the company, that the domesticity between them is comforting and familiar and warm.

They shower together that night, Blaine rinsing the conditioner from Sebastian's hair while he's left to paw at slick skin. Blaine snorts, forcing him to arm's distance to get rid of the product and when it's done, he presses forward until Blaine's back is against the tiles. They've fucked in the shower before – with more success than Sebastian and Andy – when the idea of a handjob and a blowjob wasn't what was craved, but he's not after that this time. He knows he'll get Blaine to bed first.

They dry off and Blaine seems to know not to bother with clothes. He steps backwards towards the bed with a coy grin on his face as Sebastian follows him, and he feels very much like a predator stalking an eager prey.

Blaine turns to climb onto the bed and Sebastian pushes him over the edge of it instead, exposing that perfectly round and perky ass as Blaine's face presses into the mattress.

"I could fuck you right here," he murmurs, sinking to his knees and pressing a kiss to each squishy globe. Blaine whimpers, rolling his hips back hopefully. Sebastian knows what he's after and gives it to him, a lick to the puckered pink entrance that turns into him licking stripes from smooth perineum to clenching hole. It makes Blaine thrust his hips into the bed and it makes Sebastian grin. "But I won't," he says, stepping away and basking in Blaine's disappointed whimper. "Up on your back by the pillows."

Blaine scrambles to comply with a breathless laugh and Sebastian climbs over him, deliberately dragging his cock against Blaine's thigh and feeling the other bump his hip. No matter how many times they've had sex in the past few months, he's never lost that thrill of desire and lust and some level of disbelief that he truly has this man in his bed.

Maybe he  _is_  insatiable.

He works Blaine open with practised ease, stealing the gasps and groans between kisses and nips of his teeth. He enters smoothly and sucks at Blaine's neck, keeping his thrusts shallow, taking his time, because he loves being able to move up and kiss Blaine square on the mouth to soak in his gasped sounds. He's learned how to worship Blaine's body, to show with his hands and his mouth just how special the other man is. When Blaine's hands scrape down his back, breath stuttering past his swollen lips, Sebastian picks up the pace. He knows almost every little sign now, every place to touch that brings his man closer to his peak. To be fair, Blaine knows pretty much everything about him too.

Maybe  _they're_  insatiable.

His hips are hard and fast but he doesn't touch what Blaine wants him to touch most. Instead, he crushes tan hands between his fingers to stop the man touching himself. He wants to get off first and he  _knows_  Blaine doesn't last long once he's being fucked and touched.

Blaine catches his lips and he groans at the tongue that dances between his lips, his control over the moment and his body unravelling as he comes. His fingers grip at slightly smaller hands and he starts to slow the rocking of his body. Blaine is still hard between their bellies, trying to thrust his hips into Sebastian's stomach. His unashamed neediness is more than Sebastian could have imagined when they were teenagers.

He pulls out and shifts down, his mouth covering Blaine's length easily. Hands grab at his hair and Sebastian twists his fingers into the loosened stretch of Blaine's ass, synching the suction of his mouth with the rubbing of his fingers. Blaine's cursing more than he thinks he's  _ever_  heard, his hips erratic, his words garbled to the point of getting choked off. Sebastian knows he's close, he knows what to do and what to expect. He curls his fingers almost brutally and Blaine screams his name as he comes.

Sebastian doesn't care that it might garner a noise complaint in the morning. He might be generous and leave the door open so his neighbour can walk in on them.

He cleans them up – Blaine is shuddering too hard to move which makes Sebastian delighted that he's thoroughly wrecked him – before he pulls Blaine's body close like usual. Their arms loop around each other, their legs tangled, and Sebastian savours every second of it. He breathes Blaine in, with his faint raspberry smell and coffee mixed up with the scent of sex and sweat, and knows that he's found contentment again.

"I love you."

It's small, nervous, and when he looks down at Blaine, honey-gold eyes are determinedly not looking at him. He's suspected the feelings have been swirling in Blaine for over a year, since he said he liked him, because that speech on New Year's Day was far more than just an 'I  _like_  you' confession. Sebastian knows he's felt the same for months but can't verbalise it.

He hauls Blaine's body on top of his, spreading strong, tan legs across his thighs. He wants a kiss and it's given it to him, and he decides to show Blaine that he loves him too. It's in every fevered touch they share, each languid kiss they exchange, each awed look over his body, each whispered praise that falls from his lips. By the time their kisses crawl to a stop, his cock is hard and rubbing against Blaine's stretched, slick hole.

He knows he's bare, and he feels a shudder roll down Blaine's spine at the lack of cool latex. They'd talked about this once, after they'd first had sex, gotten tested, and both come back clean. Sebastian had explained it would take him a lot of trust – that when they did, it would mean  _everything_. Blaine's eyes had glittered as he'd nodded in understanding and not questioned it further.

Sebastian never breaks eye contact and he knows Blaine understands that this is it, that he feels everything even though he can't say it. Hands press to his shoulders as Blaine lifts his hips and sinks down in a familiar pattern. Pleasure ripples down his spine at the difference in sensation because it's no longer dulled just a fraction. Above him, Blaine hisses because he's still sensitive from the first time, because he didn't add extra lube, but Sebastian has all the time in the world for Blaine to find a rhythm slow enough for him to adjust.

"I love you," Blaine repeats, clearer this time, more confident when he meets Sebastian's gaze. Sebastian inclines his head, offers a shy smile, and wordlessly confirms that he loves Blaine too. He knows he'll say it to Blaine one day but he can't just yet, and he doesn't feel pressured because Blaine can see how he feels. It's written in the sparkle of his eyes that Blaine had noticed returned a couple of months ago and in the curl of his grin that has brought out Blaine's ability to blush at almost anything again.

Blaine sets a rhythm which is slow but purposeful, allowing Sebastian to twist his wrist up and down Blaine's cock. They come almost together and he can tell the difference in the lack of condom. Blaine's whine and nails scratching down his chest indicates he can feel it too. It's heady and arousing in a completely different way. He's marked Blaine intimately, in a way that ties him more and more to the beautiful man above him.

Blaine slides off with a wince to settle against Sebastian's body. They exchange lazy kisses and Blaine repeatedly whispers " _I love you_ " in this soft, awed voice, almost to the point of driving Sebastian crazy with desire. Blaine's too sensitive to have his ass played with again, but he gets hard again with the kisses and the words so Blaine uses his hand to jerk him off. He shudders and breathes Blaine's name when he comes with a reverence that earns him a kiss to the temple.

It's Blaine that stumbles through cleaning them up this time, switching off the lights before curling his body into Sebastian's side. He's almost too tired to wrap his arms around Blaine but he manages, somehow, to drape them across Blaine's skin and listens to the man's breathing even out.

It's only then, in the darkness and the silence, that he presses a kiss to Blaine's wayward, sweat-soaked curls and murmurs, "I love you too."

He'll say it when Blaine's awake one day, but how he feels is  _known_  and he thinks that, for now, matters more than anything else.

In the darkness of the room, he whispers an apology and a prayer to Andy. He confesses his feelings in an attempt to absolve his guilt that he's fallen in love with someone else. He explains how he'd had feelings for Blaine in high school but it had never been anything like this. Maybe he'd loved Blaine but it wasn't so deep and enduring, so  _consuming_ , that he could smile and laugh again. He thanks Andy for showing him what it means to love and care for someone, and to appreciate every day he got to share with someone special. He tells Andy that some of his feelings are similar to how he'd felt when considering a proposal. Another marriage seems far off but he thinks it's possible for him to think about now. He thinks he could share the tattered pieces of his heart with someone again.

With  _Blaine_.

Maybe it's cliché or ridiculous to say his heart is tickled with warmth when he finishes the quiet prayer but he's certain something untwists in his stomach. He doesn't believe in the supernatural, he never has. He thinks ghosts are figments of overactive imaginations and he'd spent several years in his grief, drinking his way to the bottom of bottles, trying to pretend like he could feel Andy's presence because everyone wanted to console him with the idea that "Andy's watching over you".

But…

When he finishes his confession to his first love, there's just… _something_  about that tickly warmth that makes him feel like Andy is okay with him moving on and finding love again. It's the same sort of warmth he'd felt when Andy had said " _I love you, you dumbass moron_ " the first time or when Andy had taken his trembling hands beneath an archway of white roses. It's something which makes him question if maybe a piece of Andy hadn't been watching over him for all this time, making sure he stayed out of lethal trouble until happiness smacked him in the face again.

(He's trying not to believe it's his own overactive imagination playing tricks on him after three orgasms.)

He smiles into the darkness when Blaine snuffles against his chest and hugs the man a little tighter, his body heavy and sore but his heart light. He  _believes_  he can do this and a tear slips from each eye as he realises he's  _allowing_  himself to commit to another.

It doesn't feel like betrayal.

It feels… _right_.

"I love you too, Killer," he says, nuzzling Blaine's curls again and inhaling the scent he's come to know so well. His eyes slide closed and he lets his exhaustion take him away to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

_**~FIN~** _


End file.
